


The Noise of Thunder

by autumnstar



Series: Redefining Family [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Chloe KNOWS, Demon OCs - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Horses, Trixie knows, Who'll know next?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-05-14 05:45:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14763750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnstar/pseuds/autumnstar
Summary: As videos of “demons” start appearing online, Lucifer needs to decide just how far he’ll go to protect his human family.[Sequel to The Reality of Dreams]





	1. Apple Clips

**Maze**

The house was still quiet. Maze thought she could handle a bit of quiet, but it had been nearly two weeks and she was starting to hate it. Every day her and Chloe went to work without sharing a word, ate together in silence, and went to bed with only a wave goodnight. Even when Trixie wasn’t at school, the house felt empty. _She_ felt empty.

As Maze came down the stairs that afternoon, Trixie sat scribbling away at the coffee table, apparently blissfully unaware of her mother sat behind her. Chloe didn’t pay attention to what her daughter was doing, or to Maze coming down the stairs. She just stared at the far wall, lost in her thoughts.

“Hey, Maze,” Trixie whispered to her. “What do you think?” The little girl proudly held up her latest drawing; another one of her family. Maze walked over with her best attempt at a smile, and took it from her. It wasn’t that different from all of her other recent doodles. She’d included both Chloe and Dan, stood opposite a figure with only half a face and a man drawn entirely in red crayon. Maze’s smile came a little easier.

“You left out his wings,” she noted, and Trixie grinned back, happy that Maze had noticed.

“Yeah! Do you think he’ll like it?” Maze’s smile fell. She quietly handed the drawing back to Trixie and looked across at Chloe. She hadn’t moved at all. She hadn’t even reacted to what her daughter had asked.

“He would, yeah,” Maze finally answered when she saw Trixie’s big eyes staring up at her. Neither of them had told her the full story of what had happened. The little girl still expected Lucifer to walk through the door any day, with a bright smile as if nothing had happened.

 _That’d be just like him, actually,_ Maze thought, but it wasn’t a comfort to think that. If anything, it made her feel worse, because she knew that it wasn’t likely to ever happen.

Swallowing back the annoying rise of emotions, Maze left Trixie to her drawings and went in search of a drink. It’s what Lucifer would have done. She poured herself a large glass of vodka, hit the bottle down on the counter a little harder than necessary, and downed most of the drink before the child spoke again.

“When’s he coming back?”

That was it. Those four little words were too much for Chloe. She broke down, and Trixie's wide and worried eyes only seemed to make her cry harder.

"Mom?" The girl asked quietly. “Don’t cry.” She climbed up onto Chloe’s lap, and Maze was about to take a step back when Trixie turned to her with watery eyes of her own. "I didn't mean to make her cry," she said desperately.

"I know, Trix," Maze hushed. That was about all she did know. She had no idea how to calm Chloe or reassure Trixie. She couldn't tell the small human that things were okay. She couldn't tell her that Lucifer would visit them soon. It would all be a lie.

“Let’s get out of here,” she decided. Trixie looked close to bursting into tears of her own, and leaving was the only solution Maze could think of. She may not have had the best grasp of human emotions, but she knew that Chloe would only be more upset if her daughter started crying, too.

“I wanna stay here,” Trixie protested, but it was halfhearted.

“Your mom needs to be on her own for a while,” Maze insisted. “And I need ice cream.”

Trixie looked between Maze and her mother, and eventually Chloe controlled her hitched breathes long enough to talk to the worried girl.

“Go on, monkey.” Chloe gave her daughter a tight hug, one Trixie clearly didn’t want to end. “I’ll be okay.”

Considering her mother for a moment, Trixie finally nodded and slipped off Chloe’s lap. Maze watched the little girl, waiting, as she handed Chloe her drawing.

“Don’t worry, mom,” Trixie smiled. “He said he wouldn’t leave. We made a deal.”

 

* * *

 

**Lucifer**

_2 Weeks Earlier._

“It’d be a big help,” Chloe had repeated several times, after his initial hesitation to do as she’d asked. He couldn’t just leave her, not when so many officers were off sick. The Detective needed his help, especially when Daniel and Miss Lopez were at home with the nasty illness that was spreading among her coworkers. But she insisted, and then he wondered if she just wanted to get rid of him.

“Please, Lucifer,” she pleaded again. “Dan can’t go, and I have too much to do here.”

Lucifer sighed.

“Very well. If you’re sure you can manage without me,” he conceded, in his most put upon tone that only made Chloe smile. He'd thought the Detective finally believing him would open something up. Instead it just made things more complicated. He had so much he wanted - _needed_ \- to tell her, and no idea how to go about it.

Chloe thanked him and went back to work, and that was how Lucifer found himself waiting in traffic, with the Detective’s daughter chatting away beside him. He still marvelled at the fact that she allowed him and Maze around her daughter. Not only that, but she’d _trusted_ him to take the child home safely. She’d asked the Devil himself to look after her. Why would she do that?

“But then we had to go back to class,” Trixie was saying, and Lucifer realised she was still talking. He hadn’t asked her about her day, but since she’d got into the corvette she hadn’t stopped telling him about everything her and her equally small friends had been up to.

“Oh dear,” Lucifer answered. He had no idea what he was replying to.

“Yeah,” the girl nodded, dejected. “So I didn’t get to see it.”

Maybe he should have been focusing less on the Detective and more on her daughter. She seemed disappointed, and he had no idea why or how to make it better.

“It sounded so cool,” Trixie went on. Lucifer could feel her turning to look at him, as if she thought he might be able to do something about it. “Lucifer?” she asked thoughtfully.

“Yes?”

“Maze is a demon, right?” He really wished he’d heard the first part of this conversation. Carefully, Lucifer glanced across at the girl, and her wide, expectant eyes stared back at him.

“Of course she is.”

“Are there other demons?”

“Many.”

Trixie was silent for a moment, but Lucifer could still feel her staring at him. He could almost hear the little girl’s brain working as she mulled over his curt answers.

“Bad ones?” She spoke again, quieter. That made him look across to her, and her wide eyes had grown concerned. He didn’t know how to answer her in a way that wouldn’t be a lie, or that wouldn’t worry her. Chloe definitely wouldn’t appreciate him telling her daughter that bad demons were very real.

“Why do you ask?” Lucifer said, answering her question with another question, and Trixie frowned.

“Because of the video,” she said, as if it was obvious. “The one Holly was gonna show me.”

“Before you had to return to class,” Lucifer surmised. At least he was finally caught up with the one-sided conversation now.

“Her brother said it was a monster,” Trixie shared. “But I think it was a demon. Monsters don’t have horses.” She sounded so sure of her logic, in the way only a child could be, and knowing the actual Devil probably helped with that.

“Well, that is true,” Lucifer agreed, before he registered what she’d actually said. It might have been nothing. He didn’t know how reliable children could be when it came to recognising _real_ monsters from the ones they found in their stories, but Trixie was one of the smart ones.

“And there’s a video of this?” He asked, and the girl nodded. “Where?”

“It’s on her brother’s Wobble, but mom won’t let me look on there.”

He couldn’t ignore her childish conversation making now. Lucifer didn’t know how many demons had escaped Hell, but maybe this was a lead to an unknown escapee. He pulled out his phone, and the girl’s face lit up with excitement. She leaned closer to him to get a better view of the screen.

“Ah-ah,” Lucifer tutted and pulled the phone away.

“Lucifer,” Trixie protested. “I won’t tell mom you showed me!”

“No, you won’t, because I’m being a responsible Devil and _not_ showing you.” Chloe trusted him with the child. He couldn’t throw that away. But Trixie narrowed her eyes at him, and with frightening speed her scowl turned into a cunning smile.

“We could make a deal?” she suggested.

“You have nothing I want,” Lucifer smiled back. Trixie wasn’t deterred. She just folded her arms and stared at him, until Lucifer felt his will slowly slipping away. “What did you have in mind?”

“You let me watch all the videos I want, and I’ll...” She hummed in thought and looked around the car, as if searching for inspiration. “I’ll owe you a favour?”

“An I owe you?” Lucifer mused. “And that’s all you want in return?”

“What if I don’t want anything else?” Trixie asked. “Can I ask for something for someone else?”

That was a new one. Most people only ever made deals for themselves, not for the benefit of other people. Especially when it meant they’d be the one to owe him the favour. Lucifer was impressed.

“If that’s what you want.”

“Promise you won’t leave,” she said seriously. That was even more unexpected. Lucifer stared at her, and Trixie stared back. She didn’t break eye contact, and she kept her tiny arms firmly crossed. The child really wasn’t going to back down from her strange request.

“Why would I leave, child?”

“I heard mommy and Maze talking,” Trixie explained, relaxing her shoulders. “She says you won’t talk to her, and she’s worried you’ll run away.”

“I do not run.” The cheek of the Detective, to even _think_ that he’d run. He’d only done that once, and with very good reason. He wouldn’t run now.

Trixie just stared at him expectantly, unconvinced.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You have my word. I won’t leave.” He knew how Chloe felt about his deal-making, and could guess how she’d feel about him making a deal with her daughter, but she was a very enterprising little girl. It couldn’t hurt to encourage that. “Now, what’s the title of this video?”

“Holly didn’t say, but I remember the hashtag. L.A. apple clips.”

“Apple clips?” Lucifer repeated as he typed it out. It was a strange choice of hashtag, but then small humans were strange.

Nothing came up.

“I’m sure that was it,” Trixie said with a frown and sank back into her seat. She was back to being disappointed. That was the last thing Lucifer wanted. He was already feeling uneasy about the mention of a demon with a horse, without the added weight of a disappointed Beatrice.

“Perhaps you heard it wrong,” he suggested, but Trixie only frowned harder.

“She said _apple clips_ ,” the girl insisted.

“Apple-?” _Oh_. Going back to his phone, Lucifer tried a different hashtag as the girl watched him hopefully. This time it worked, and a whole wall of pictures and videos appeared on the screen, each one with a thumbnail of a blurry, dark creature.

“It’s _apocalypse_ ,” he told her, and turned the phone around for Trixie to see.

“There’s so many,” she commented as she scrolled through them all, until she found the one she was looking for. “I think it’s this one. That’s the beach.”

Holding the phone between them so that they could both see, Lucifer pressed play. The video went to full screen, and a shaky image of the local beach appeared.

At first, he couldn’t really see anything out of the ordinary. It seemed to be early morning, just as it was starting to get light, and there was only one figure moving along the sand. It stood out clearly in the darkness of the early morning, but it wasn’t until the video slowly zoomed in that the white form took on a more recognisable shape. It was definitely a horse, with someone walking beside it, but the human filming it wouldn’t stay still. The horsemen was holding something long and thin, but Lucifer couldn’t tell what it was with the frustrating camera quality.

“See?” Trixie said, and leaned so close to him that her little head pressed into his shoulder. “That’s not a monster.”

“You’re right,” he agreed quietly and closed the clip.

“Can we watch another?” she asked. Lucifer wanted to tell her no, he shouldn’t have let her watch that one, but traffic ahead of them began to move and he was blissfully saved from having to disappoint the girl again.

He slipped his phone back into his blazer pocket, the image of the white horse stuck in his head, and drove on.


	2. Guerra

Maze rotated the image, and then rotated it again.

“What _is_ that?” She frowned.

“I wouldn’t like to say,” Lucifer answered. “An elbow?”

Maze gave him an unimpressed glare, and Lucifer took his phone from her to bring up the next thing in the tag. It was a video this time, the seventh one they’d watched that morning, and like the others he couldn’t make out more than a black blur running down a street, or peeking around a corner.

Ever since Trixie had told him about the tag, Lucifer had scrolled through all the supposed sightings of demons and monsters that appeared on Wobble. The next morning, while waiting for the Detective, he’d asked Maze if she’d seen them. She hadn’t.

“This is ridiculous,” Maze said, frustrated. “Are they all like this?”

"Are you watching a bad video?" A little voice asked from across the counter. Lucifer had forgotten the spawn was there, eating her breakfast before she had to go to school.

"Something like that," Lucifer told her. “I’m trying to find the one with the horse.” He hadn’t been able to find it since Trixie had first shown him. The tag was too full, with more demon videos being uploaded every hour. Most of them weren’t real, he was sure of that. Some were of stray cats or feral dogs, and others were just humans filmed from a distance. People were building themselves up into a frenzy, but the horse one had stayed with him. _That_ was worth investigating.

Trixie took the phone from him and scrolled through the tag as she munched on her cereal.

“There’s a new one,” the girl told him after a moment of searching, and handed the phone back. Lucifer took it and looked at the screen, paused on an image of the same beach.

“Thank you, Beatrice.” He stood beside Maze and pressed play, and the two of them watched in silence.

It was the same sighting, but from a different angle and with a less shaky human filming it. The white horse moved _towards_ the camera this time, and as it slowly marched forward, the creature leading it along came into focus.

“Is that a… beak?” Lucifer asked, bringing the phone closer.

“Hm- yeah.” Maze nodded and pointed at the face. “It’s one of those plague doctor masks.”

She was right. The long beak-shaped mask and round, black eyes came into focus. The being didn’t seem to have noticed the humans watching it. It looked straight ahead, leading the horse along slowly as if in a trance, and dragged a long staff behind it in the sand.

“Is it scary?” Trixie held his hand and tugged the phone lower so she could watch with them.

“Some humans think so,” Maze shrugged, before her face lit up and she turned to Lucifer. “Remember when we used to put them on to scare souls?”

“How could I forget?” Lucifer smiled back at the demon, welcoming the distraction from the video. “The plagues were some of our busiest times.”

“Some of our best times,” Maze corrected.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chloe interrupted, cutting off Lucifer’s laugh. “But it better not be what you’re showing Trixie.”

“It’s just a horse video, mom,” Trixie assured her mother, but the Detective looked skeptically between the three of them.

“Are you ready, Detective?” Lucifer asked, before she could voice her doubt, and slipped his phone back into his breast pocket.

He wasn’t ready to tell her about the plague doctor, not just yet. Just like all of the other things he wasn’t yet ready to tell her. In a little over two weeks, Chloe had done a remarkable job of coming to terms with who and what he was. Lucifer didn’t want to push her any further.

“Yeah,” she said at last, clearly choosing to drop her suspicions for now. “Maze, can you take Trixie to school?”

“Sure. I’ll take her when we’re done training.”

“She needs to go _now_ , Maze.”

“Where’s dad?” Trixie asked, sliding off her stool to grab her school bag.

“He’s still sick, baby. Maze can take you today,” the Detective answered.

Lucifer exchanged a look with Maze, who mimed the shape of a beak in front of her face. He nodded.

Outside the Detective and Maze’s apartment, Lucifer walked a stepped or two behind Chloe. He followed her in silence to her car, trying to put the video out of his mind, but it didn’t work. The videos had been uploaded recently, just a few days apart, but that didn’t mean the sighting was recent. He needed to know _when_ Pestilence was on the beach, and just how long he had to do something before humans started dying.

“So,” Lucifer put his hand in front of her, stopping Chloe from getting into her car, “Daniel’s still unwell?”

“Yeah. I didn’t wanna say anything in front of Trixie, but it sounds pretty bad.” She turned to him, and seemed to take the look on his face to mean he was concerned about Daniel. He was concerned, sort of, just not for the reason Chloe assumed. “I’m sure he’ll be fine in a few days,” she assured him. “People get sick.”

“Yes, they do,” Lucifer agreed absently. The distinction between _him_ and _them_ was spoken so easily, that it took him a second to realise that Chloe was one of _them_. Judging by the soft frown on her face, she’d just realised that as well.

“Are you sick, Detective?” He hadn’t considered the possibility of her being unwell. She didn’t seem ill. She looked and sounded like the normal Detective he knew, but that didn't settle his worry. What would he do if she was sick, too? They still hadn’t had a real talk about what him being the Devil really meant, and he hadn’t yet been bold enough to tell her about her miracle status.

“What? No, I’m fine. Is that why you’re being so weird?” Lucifer didn’t answer. “I’m not sick, Lucifer.”

“Tell me if that starts to change,” he insisted, and Chloe looked at him with a smile that was either fond or sad. Lucifer couldn’t tell.

“I will,” she promised. “But I feel fine.” She reached for her car door, but he quickly took hold of her arm. He had just one more question. If he was going to find out how long Pestilence had already been there, he needed the answer sooner rather than later. Their case could wait.

"Do you--” He took his hand away from Chloe’s arm when he noticed her looking at it. “Do you happen to know who got sick first?"

The Detective regarded him for a second, and Lucifer tried not to look away. He tried to keep his expression open, unphased, but she didn’t look convinced. She was a Detective. She probably already knew that he was hiding something. Several somethings, actually.

"I think it was Ella,” she answered at last. “Why?"

"Just wondering who I should blame for spreading their germs around the precinct. Excuse me." He brushed past her quickly before she could stop him, but only got a few steps away when Chloe caught his hand.

“Wait, where are you going?"

"I just have to check on something, Detective." Gently, Lucifer tugged his hand free of the Detective’s and straightened his cuffs. “I won’t be long.”

"What about the case?" She dropped her hand.

"Text me the address. I'll meet you there." He was about to rush away when another thought occurred to him. _Better to be safe than sorry._ "Just be careful of rats."

" _Rats_?" He hurried away. "Lucifer!"

 

* * *

 

Lucifer didn’t think he’d ever been to that part of town before. It was a nice apartment building, understated and inviting, with softly coloured cream walls and furniture.

He wasn’t exactly proud of the way he’d rushed away from Chloe. The look on her face, a mixture of worry and confusion, played through his mind whenever he stopped thinking about the horse videos. But he had a job to do, and he couldn’t let his feelings for anyone or anything else get in the way.

“Ah! Here we go,” he muttered triumphantly when he came to the apartment door with the silver number nine. The lock wasn’t a problem. It softly clicked when he tried the door, and after looking both ways down the corridor, Lucifer quickly ducked inside.

At other times, he was sure the entrance and living space were as bright and welcoming as the rest of the building. The darkness was more than a little alarming. All of the curtains and blinds were closed, and Lucifer had to give his eyes a moment to adjust before he moved forward.

The place felt stifling. It was nothing at all like the person he’d come to see. It was so dark and quiet, with a lingering smell of old air, that Lucifer wouldn’t have been surprised to find no one living there.

Not knowing his way around, he found the doors to the bathroom, kitchen, and a cupboard with shelves full of books and board games, before he found the room he was really after; the bedroom.

He peeked his head inside, and wavered when he saw the bed. Like the rest of the apartment, the room was in total darkness. Lucifer could only just make out a number of posters and framed comic book covers on the wall, and a desk with a microscope opposite the bed. But Lucifer was more concerned about the figure lying in it.

“Miss Lopez?” He asked tentatively, but she didn’t respond. She looked as if she was sleeping. Her chest slowly rose and fell with a hollow, wheezing breath. So slowly that, for one heart stopping moment, she didn’t move at all.

“Let’s just...” Lucifer looked around helplessly, before he finally turned to the closed curtains. “Let some light in, shall we?”

Talking to her helped him, but he wasn’t too sure if it helped her. Lucifer didn’t even know if she could hear him. He turned his back on her to pull the curtains apart, and a faint groan came from the bed. In the distance, over the roofs of the neighbouring buildings, Lucifer saw dark clouds rolling in from the sea. That was another thing to worry about later.

Looking back, he saw Ella cringing away from the sudden brightness, but she couldn’t move much and he almost regretted opening the curtains. Not just because of the discomfort it caused her, but because he could now see just how pallid and sunken her usually cheery face had become. It filled him with a different type of sickness. The kind that felt a lot like regret, or anger. Regret that he hadn’t thought to check on her state sooner, and anger that his Dad would let this happen. Miss Lopez had faith in him. How could he let her fall so gravely ill?

“Are you happy?” Lucifer said to the ceiling, before another moan from Ella made him look back down. She seemed to be trying to mutter something. Her eyes were half-lidded, but she was looking towards him now, and Lucifer felt stuck.

Thinking about it, Ella hadn’t been into work for at least a week. That meant that the videos on Wobble were probably just over a week old. He wasn’t sure yet if that was a good or a bad thing. Lucifer had no idea how long people were sick before they...

Trying to ignore how close Miss Lopez looked to Azrael’s door, and focusing on why he was there, Lucifer thoughtlessly opened his wings. There was considerably less space in her bedroom than he’d thought, and the long feathers swept Ella’s microscope off the desk. He didn’t react quick enough. The equipment fell with a metallic clatter and thud, and the disheartening sound of glass cracking.

“Apologies, Miss Lopez,” Lucifer said softly, and clumsily manoeuvred himself around the room to pick the microscope up. If the Detective’s reactions were anything to go by, Miss Lopez wouldn’t appreciate him entering her house uninvited, but she’d be even more annoyed to know he’d broken her microscope.

“I’ll buy you another,” he promised, as he set it back down on the desk with a click of broken glass.

Behind him, Ella continued to mutter something. Her breathing was a laboured hiss, and no matter how closely he listened, Lucifer couldn’t make out any words. Not in English or Spanish, or any other language known to humans.

Facing her, Lucifer gently hushed Ella and sat on the end of her bed; his wings awkwardly folded tight behind his back. Her chest rattled with every sharp breath she took, and it was then that he noticed her holding something. Ella’s hand was tightly fisted around the cross pendant she always wore.

Lucifer tried not to frown at the sight. She must have been taking some comfort from it, but it just made him uncomfortable.

“I know that you don’t believe me.” She seemed to react to his voice that time. Ella looked down at him. Her eyes were still barely open, but Lucifer could tell she was looking directly at him. He smiled at her, and tried to keep it in place as he reached back and plucked one of his feathers. He wouldn’t let her see him wince. It was like ripping out a lock of hair, but he was sure it was nothing compared to how Miss Lopez felt.

“But try not to give Dad any credit,” Lucifer whispered, and carefully pulled her hand away from her necklace. “He doesn’t deserve it.” He slid the feather into her clammy palm, and closed her fingers around it.

 

* * *

 

The address the Detective had sent him, shortly before arriving at Ella’s apartment, took Lucifer to a building site not too far from Lux. There was no one there to welcome him, or to stop him as he ducked under the police tape. The place was completely quiet, but that wasn’t the strangest thing.

Around the half-built, wooden structure lay broken planks of wood and bricks scattered across the ground. Nearby, a cement mixer had been tipped over, spilling the mix onto the ground, where it appeared to have set. Lucifer had to follow the sound of voices to find his way through the chaos, until he finally saw Chloe talking to another man. The body of the victim was hidden behind them.

“Detective?” Lucifer called to her, and Chloe turned to him with a relieved smile. The other man, however, did not. He scowled as Lucifer made his way over, and Lucifer couldn’t resist grinning at the stout and much shorter man. He seemed the type to get angry over the slightest of things. In this case, a smile. With a snort and a glare, the man turned and left without a word.

“Well, he seemed lovely,” Lucifer commented with a more genuine smile.

“Yeah. A real charmer,” Chloe agreed flatly. “Where have you been?”

Right. She was upset with him for leaving her, understandably, but Lucifer wasn’t sure if he wanted to explain to her what he’d just done. It’d mean talking about his wings, and that was something both of them had skirted around mentioning since their brief kiss.

He’d add it on to the list of things they needed to talk about, when he finally got around to giving her The Devil Talk.

“Just visiting a friend, Detective,” he said with a smile. “Is this our victim?” Hoping for a distraction, Lucifer left Chloe’s side and went to the body nearby.

“A friend?” She asked, as she hastily followed after him.

“Yes.” He couldn’t see why his answer had been so unbelievable to the Detective. He _had_ been to see a friend, after all, and now he was here to focus on their case.

“Oh,” Lucifer heard Chloe say as he looked over the body. Their victim was sprawled across a pile of broken wood. He was middle-aged, and a huge, muscular man, but it looked as if he’d been thrown onto the pile like a bag of feathers.

“I just thought we--” Chloe stopped, and Lucifer tilted his head to look at her. “That we were...”

“Detective?” He nudged.

“That we’d come here together,” she finished, saying the words so quickly that he almost didn’t catch them. “That’s why you waited at the apartment, right?”

“Of course. Well, that, and I wanted to speak to Maze,” he assured her with a smile. Honestly, it sounded as if she cared more about his friend than the dead body in front of them. “But then,” Lucifer tried to explain, “Something else came up.”

“I bet,” Chloe muttered.

“And now I’m entirely yours.”

“Great.”

Neither of them said anything else. They just stood side-by-side, staring unseeingly down at the body.

“So,” Lucifer clapped his hands together. “Who’s this poor chap?”

Chloe sighed and took out her notepad.

“Joel Sergeant,” she read out. “38. He was a worker here, and he,” she used her pad to point in the direction the angry man had stomped off in, “Is the site manager. Robert Holden.”

Lucifer looked towards where Chloe had indicated. Two members of their usual forensics team were gathered nearby, collecting evidence, but there was no sign of Holden or any other workers. It felt strange being at a crime scene with such a small team around them. At least Ella would soon be able to rejoin them, but then there was Daniel to think about. Maybe he should heal him next.

“We’ll need to wait for the new M.E. to give a cause of death,” Chloe commented. “I hope Ella’s doing okay.” With so many of their team sick, it wasn’t a surprise that things had to be done a little differently. At least he had one thing he could share with Chloe, that would hopefully help her to feel better.

“Well, never fear, Detective,” he said with renewed vigour. “She’ll be feeling much better in about,” he looked at his watchless wrist, “Now.”

“How do you know that?” She asked, with a look that told Lucifer she was definitely impressed with him. Or suspicious. It was hard to tell. “Is this a,” Chloe awkwardly lifted her hand and mimed a set of horns on top of her head, “A thing you can do?”

“Right, is that supposed to be me?” Lucifer demanded, but the Detective only smiled at him and dropped her hands. She wasn’t even slightly apologetic. “She should be feeling much better,” he explained, before she could tease him further. “But I can’t heal the whole department.” He shuddered at the thought of having to pluck another feather.

“What?” She asked, stunned, and Lucifer realised he’d said too much.

“So, we just need to find ourselves a witness,” he said, turning his back on her.

“Most of them are already at the precinct,” the Detective told him, clearly reluctant to let him change the subject, but they did have a job to do. “The other workers assaulted the first officer on scene.”

“Well, that makes our job a lot easier.”

“I asked Holden for any security footage they might have, but,” she shrugged, disappointed. “We can’t move forward until we talk--” Lucifer looked at her and she faltered, “-- _To the other workers._ ”

“There’s one worker here we could always question a little more,” Lucifer said with a grin when he saw Holden walking towards them. This would reassure the Detective that he was still a committed partner.

“Hello again, Robbie. We weren’t properly introduced before.”

“You two almost done here?” Was the manager’s only reply. _Not the talkative sort, then. Big surprise._

“Almost. I just have _one_ question.” Lucifer beamed and leaned closer. “What do you desire?”

“Wh--?” Holden stepped back. “Is this a joke?”

“Oh, now don’t be coy, Robbie. You can’t be that complicated.” Lucifer stepped forward, and in a lower voice he asked the question again. “Come on. What is it you desire?”

“I…”

“Yes?”

“My workers,” he said slowly. “I wanna squeeze the life outta every last one of them.”

 _Oh_ , Lucifer mouthed. He shouldn’t have been surprised. The man was anger personified. “Right. Well.” He turned to Chloe and arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t that illegal, Detective?”

“Just a bit, yeah.” She’d stayed beside the body while she watched him trying to get Holden to talk, but now she crossed her arms and came to stand beside him.

“Maybe someone needs to see a therapist,” Lucifer suggested airily.

“Listen, it’s not like that,” the manager tried to reason. “But these last couple days have been tough. Ever since that guy came here--”

“What guy?” Chloe asked, saving Lucifer the trouble.

“Some guy with a uniform and mustang came here Tuesday. Said he was called Guerra and wanted to buy this place when it was built. But I told him, some reverend already owns the property.”

“ _Guerra_?” Lucifer repeated.

“Could you describe this man?” The Detective asked, and made a note of the name.

“No, his face was covered.” Lucifer and Chloe looked at each other, and she didn’t need to say anything for him to know she felt just as suspicious as he did.

“What sort of uniform was he wearing?” Lucifer asked.

“Some kinda military one. I didn’t recognise it,” Holden said with dwindling patience. “Look, you’ll see all this on the security tapes. The guy was… off.”

“Right,” Lucifer said with a nod. “And ever since _Guerra_ visited you’ve all been at each other’s throats, quite literally?”

“Yeah. I think it’s the money he offered. Some of us thought we should’ve taken it, others disagreed.”

“And that’s why this place looks like a warzone,” Lucifer said.

“I guess.”

“And he had a mustang.”

“Lucifer, where are you going with this?” Chloe asked, placing a hand on his arm as if she could physically hold back his questions, but he had to carry on. He’d explain everything to her later. Eventually.

“When you say mustang,” he pressed on, “Do you mean an actual mustang or a car?”

“Are you for real?” Holden frowned, his anger rising again. His face was turning a lovely shade of red. “It was a _motorcycle_. Why the hell would he be on a horse?”

“No reason.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Chloe interjected. Her hand moved from his arm to his chest, and he looked down to see the mixture of pleading and warning in her eyes. She had questions brewing, he could tell. He’d have to think of an impressive excuse for this. One that wouldn’t scare her.

“I just have one more question, Detective.” Lucifer assured her. She hesitated, but relented when he smiled at her, and took her hand from his chest. “What colour was the mustang?”

“What’s it matter?” Holden spat back.

“Humour me.”

“It was _red_. Now are we done here?”

“Yes, I think so.” Lucifer said brightly and turned to Chloe. “Detective?”

“For now,” she agreed, and he marvelled at how calm she remained as Holden rolled his eyes and stomped off again.

“Do you think we should run a check on the mustang?” Chloe asked once the man was out of earshot.

“No, I doubt he’s the killer,” Lucifer dismissed gently. The horseman’s job wasn’t to kill, Lucifer remembered. He was only there to take away peace. Whoever killed their builder, it wasn’t a demon horsemen sent by Dad. “Which means someone else managed to throw our bodybuilder onto the pyre.”

“Maybe Guerra had help,” Chloe suggested, watching him closely. He tried not to look back at her, but it was hard not to when she was standing so close. She must have suspected something by now. “Why were you so interested in the uniform?”

“What can I say? I love a man in uniform,” Lucifer answered.

“And the mustang?” The Detective pressed. She really wasn’t going to stop until he gave her a proper answer, was she?

“Lucifer,” Chloe said when he wouldn’t look at her. “What’s going on?” He could hear the building concern in her voice, and he knew that the longer he stayed quiet and kept things from her, the worse things would be for the both of them.

“I was just thinking about _Guerra_ , Detective,” he explained. “It’s a Spanish word. And Italian, actually.”

“What does it mean?”

Lucifer turned to her and caught a hopeful glint in her eyes. She really thought he was about to open up to her, and he was, but honesty would only put that hopeful spark out.

“It means war.”


	3. The End Times

Telling Chloe about the Horsemen had been easier than Lucifer expected. Once he’d started talking, he couldn’t stop. He told her about the videos, the sickness Daniel and Ella both had, and his suspicion that their new case was somehow connected.

“What about Trixie?” Had been one of her first questions.

“Nothing will happen to your child, Detective,” he’d assured her. The promise was unspoken, but Chloe seemed to understand what Lucifer really meant. He wouldn’t _let_ anything happen to her daughter. Or to Chloe, or to any of them for that matter. Even if it meant plucking more feathers to stop them from getting sick.

The next day, Chloe drove him to a diner to pick up a late breakfast, before they were due to go into work to speak with the M.E.

It was a dull, cloudy morning, the kind that came right before a downpour. She’d parked her car down a backstreet, looking out towards the main road, and had insisted that they sit in the car to avoid the rain. Lucifer didn’t know how to tell her there wouldn’t be any.

“Did you oversleep?” He asked curiously, while Chloe unwrapped her food.

“No.” She frowned softly. “Why?”

“You don’t usually miss breakfast with your spawn.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” she explained with a shy smile and a shrug. “But I’m starving.”

Just like that, her frown was gone, and she was watching him with amusement as he slowly unwrapped his own food.

“Do you even need to eat?” She asked before taking her first bite. Lucifer watched her, surprised that she was willing to openly talk about who he really was. There was still a lot he hadn’t told her, and they usually barely acknowledged that he wasn’t human.

“I don’t really,” Lucifer began, and stopped himself from staring at her by picking at the questionable wrap that the Detective called a crunchy beef burrito. “I won’t die if I don’t, but it’s always fun to indulge, isn’t it?” He turned to her with a sly smile and she rolled her eyes.

“So much makes sense now. Only you could make eating a burrito sound _that_ sinful,” she teased, and Lucifer grinned. Chloe wasn’t uncomfortable about who he was. She was teasing him - teasing _the Devil_ \- and it filled his chest with an unusual warmth. He liked it.

“These burritos _are_ a sin, Detective. Have you seen what’s in them?” Lucifer asked, playing along. As if to prove a point, Chloe locked her eyes on his, and took another big bite.

“Mmm!”

“Ugh. There’s a special place in Hell for people who pretend this is food.”

Her smile fell. _Right_. Hell was real to her now, and apparently not something to make light jokes about. He’d ruined the moment. Not that it was a moment.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Lucifer said apologetically. “People send themselves to Hell for all sorts of things, but you’ll never go there. You’re a,” _Miracle,_ “A good person. Too good, really.” The Detective looked at him, and managed a ghost of a smile at his reassurances. “Are you alright, Detective?”

“Yeah,” Chloe answered quietly, and then with a jolt seemed to realise that she should say more. She swallowed a mouthful of her burrito, Lucifer hadn’t touched his, and gave him another smile. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind since yesterday, you know?”

He nodded slowly, thinking, and they both lapsed into silence. Lucifer didn’t regret telling her. It was a relief to get something off his chest, and to have Chloe accept it. Or so he’d thought.

“Would you rather I hadn’t told you?” He asked her carefully. “About any of this?”

“Yes. I mean, no.” Finishing her wrap, she scrunched up the wrapper, and Lucifer got the impression that she was just doing it for a distraction. “I’d probably be dead if you hadn’t let me see the truth. It’s just… It’s a lot to take in, on top of you--” She waved her hand towards him.

“On top of me?” Lucifer purred.

“On top of you being _you_. Everything’s flipped on its head, and now there’s an ap--” Chloe trailed off, and he knew she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. “A you-know-what.”

“Well, no, that isn’t strictly true. We’re only in the early stages of it,” he corrected lightly. “We’re two Horsemen in. There’s still a chance,” _a small chance_ , “Of stopping it. I simply need to find out who triggered it and stop them.”

“Oh, is that all?” Chloe drawled. She stared down at the rubbish in her hands, and Lucifer didn’t know what to say. For the first time, he wondered how knowing the truth about himself really affected her. They hadn’t properly spoken since that afternoon in his penthouse, when she’d kissed him.

“Who’s next?” She asked, her voice so quiet that he didn’t hear her at first. It was the sound of a car horn that finally snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Which Horsemen comes next?” The Detective said, clearer and louder this time.

Another car beeped its horn, and Lucifer seized at the distraction. He looked ahead towards the main street, where a crowd had quickly formed. Several people had their phones out, others were staring in awe. Traffic slowed to a crawl, until there were too many people filling the road for anyone to drive past.

“What the hell?” Chloe whispered. “No offence.”

“None taken, Detective,” Lucifer replied.

He handed her his uneaten burrito without a word and quickly scrambled out of the car. Whatever was happening, whatever the danger, Lucifer had to get a closer look. The Detective called out behind him as she opened her door, telling him to wait, but he couldn’t. He jogged to the end of the road, pushed his way through the crowd, and stopped.

A deathly silence fell over everyone. Lucifer had never known such a large gathering of humans could be so quiet.

All eyes were fixed on one figure. It was the figure of a gnarled, black horse, and it slowly moved down the centre of the street. Its impossibly long, bony legs weaved between stopped cars and taxis with ease, and the people inside them were frozen in awe and fear.

On top of the black beast sat a hooded rider, which was almost as thin and skeletal as the horse itself. Its back was hunched over, and tattered, grey robes hung from it like skin hanging off bone. This one, unlike its first two cousins, hadn’t tried to blend in with the humans. It was as if it wanted to make a spectacle. Lucifer couldn’t fault it for that.

He looked around at the transfixed crowd, and saw Chloe walking towards them down the side street. He shook his head at her, hoping to stop her, but it didn’t work. Instead, it was the sound of a human screaming that made the Detective pause. Lucifer turned back to the street and saw the Horsemen with its gaunt hand lifted in the air, holding a pair of scales, and one by one more humans in the crowd started to cry out. They doubled over, clutching at their stomachs, and Lucifer backed away.

_No._ Another human fell down, and Chloe’s words from a moment before played through his head.

_I’m starving._

_No, no, no._

Not sparing another look back at the crowd or the rider, Lucifer raced towards Chloe. His heart pounded, the sound of it thumping in his ears. It was all he could hear as he lifted Chloe into his arms and flew her away.

Lucifer hadn’t had time to think about where he was flying her to, he just knew that he had to fly the Detective away from Famine’s reach.

“Lucifer?” She sounded winded, and her hair was a mess once they’d landed, but other than that she was fine. She was safe. She stared in flushed confusion at him and his wings, her fingers gripping his shoulders tight, and he couldn’t help but stare back.

“Yes, Detective?” He asked shakily, folding his wings away.

“You can put me down now,” Chloe said, with an unsure smile. She couldn’t have seen the Horsemen, and Lucifer realised belatedly that she’d have no idea why he’d picked her up and whisked her away.

“Yes. Right,” he said, flustered. “Of course.” Lowering the Detective’s feet to the ground, he hoped she wouldn’t somehow hear or feel how fast his heart was beating.

_She’s fine_ , he told himself again. _She’s safe._

“What happened?” Chloe asked warily. “Was it something--” She waved her hands, trying to look for the right word. Lucifer could see the rising panic in her eyes and he hated it. “Something not human?”

“Yes,” Lucifer told her honestly, and started walking.

“Wait,” she insisted, hurrying after him. “Where are you going? What were they looking at?”

“I’m going back to Lux,” Lucifer half-answered. He couldn’t tell her the rest. He wouldn’t burden her with even more to worry about. His way of reassuring her that the apocalypse wasn’t going to happen had been to tell her there were only _two_ Horsemen on Earth. Telling her the truth would undo that.

Pulling out his phone, he started to make a call when he felt Chloe hold his arm. It slowed him down, but it didn’t stop him.

“Tell me what’s going on!” She demanded, and that stopped him. He turned to her and saw her anxiety quickly turning to fear. Was ignorance really bliss?

“Detective, I--”

“ _And I looked, and behold a pale horse,_ ” a voice cried from further down the street. “ _And his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him._ ”

Lucifer and Chloe frowned at one another, and looked to see a man preaching to a small, sparse crowd. He had a sign beside him, with the words _The End Times_ crudely painted on it in red. Lucifer knew he didn’t have the best history with street preachers, but he couldn’t stop himself from walking towards this one. He was curious to see what the human had to say, and maybe it would buy him some time to decide what to tell Chloe.

It was the perfect distraction.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, loud enough that he hoped the street preacher would hear.

“Lucifer, don’t,” the Detective urged.

“When will humans stop calling her _him_?”

“Okay, you’ve lost me. What?”

“Azrael,” he clarified. He’d always hated that passage. The whole chapter on the apocalypse was a little dramatic and overdone, but the way they described his sister was infuriating. “She told me over a millennia ago not to call her that. When will humans catch up?”

They came to a stop at the edge of the preacher’s crowd, and Chloe stared at him.

“Lucifer...” She said gently. “I don’t think he knows that about your sister.”

“The end is here, friends! We’ve all seen the videos. They’re here. The Devil is here. He's everywhere. Inside us. Tempting us in our final days."

“Oh, please. If I was going to tempt them to do anything, I’d tempt them all to dress better.”

“Lucifer.”

Ignoring their interruptions, the preacher pointed suddenly to a woman in the growing crowd, and called out, "Has the Devil been in you?"

Lucifer craned his neck to see who it was, and didn’t recognise her blushing face.

"Oh for-- We've never even met!” He shouted back.

“ _Lucifer_.”

"Or you?" Whether he’d heard him or not, Lucifer couldn’t tell, the preacher continued and pointed to someone else. It was a man, whose handsome face Lucifer definitely _did_ recognise.

“Lucky guess,” he muttered, and that was it. The Detective grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the congregation. He didn’t struggle, but he did pull back to slow her down in her quick march away.

“I thought you wanted to go to Lux,” she snipped.

“I do, Detective.”

“Then let’s go. You still need to explain what the hell’s going on.”

 

* * *

 

The walk back to Lux was mostly silent. The Detective still clearly had questions, but she kept them to herself until they were somewhere more private. She’d let him make the call he’d been distracted from by the street preacher, then she’d let him get caught up in his own thoughts. That was when his plan began to form. It wouldn’t be easy to pull off. It’d mean upsetting those closest to him, but it was a necessary evil.

There _had_ to be someone behind the Horsemen being there, Lucifer knew that much. It was too early for the apocalypse; the date had been set for over two millennia, which meant someone had done something to bring it forward a couple of years. Not knowing when or who or how made things worse.

By the time they reached Lux and made it up to the penthouse, Maze was waiting for them with a drink.

“That was quick,” Lucifer said as he slipped off his blazer. His demon-butler appeared behind him a second later to take it away. “Pruflas.”

The demon cat had fit relatively well into his day-to-day life at Lux. He was just as subdued and loyal as he had been back in Hell, and he seemed just as happy to be away from that place as Lucifer himself was.

“Welcome back, sir.” Pruflas dipped his head and disappeared again into the next room. He was in his human form - olive skin, narrow face, and messy curls - with the heavy sunglasses covering his eyes, but Chloe still stepped around him. She’d never seen his cat form, but somehow the Detective knew that that wasn’t his real face.

Lucifer wondered if she could sense that about himself or Maze.

“I came as soon as I got your call,” Maze shrugged a shoulder and tipped her glass towards the bar. There were two other whiskeys there, presumably poured by Pruflas. “What _exactly_ did you see?”

“I told you on the phone,” Lucifer said with a frown and took his drink from the bar. He offered Chloe hers, but she waved it away.

“We still have work to do, Lucifer,” she reminded. “We need to see the M.E. later.”

“That’s later, Detective.” He smiled. “You look like you could use a drink now.”

“Lucifer,” Maze said, with all the practiced patience of someone who was used to him getting distracted, especially by Chloe. “Saying, _it’s here, meet me at Lux_ , doesn’t tell me what you saw,” she mimicked his accent, and Lucifer didn’t miss how that got a smile from the Detective. That was the very reason he didn’t want to say what he’d seen. He’d already seen her smile disappear once that morning, Lucifer didn’t want to see it happen again.

He downed his drink.

“Famine,” he said, and he could tell by the wide-eyed look on Maze’s face that he didn’t need to say any more. It wasn’t a look of fear, or surprise, but a realisation that they had _a lot_ of work ahead of them. Or so she thought.

“You _saw_ him?” Maze coaxed.

“In the bony flesh,” Lucifer nodded. He set his glass down on the bar, and Pruflas reappeared to refill it. Chloe watched the demon closely, warily, then took a healthy swig of her own drink. So much for no drinking on the job.

“What does this mean?” She asked them nervously, as Pruflas leaned over to top up her whiskey. “Thank you.”

“It means,” Maze began, holding Lucifer’s gaze. “That there’s only one Horsemen left.”

“Indeed.”

“You have to find her, Lucifer.”

_Here we go,_ he thought.

“I don’t _have_ to do anything.” All three of them stared at him. Maze and Chloe looked lost for words, and Pruflas looked as if he had the words but was too afraid to share them. “This isn’t my responsibility. Let Amenadiel take care of it. He’s all about sticking to Dad’s plan.”

“You promised nothing would happen to Trixie.” That caught Lucifer off guard, and Chloe used his own reticence to her advantage. She met his eyes and set her glass down, determined. He’d expected her to try and reason with him, but he hadn’t expected her to bring up the child. “I know you won’t let anything happen to her. You won’t just do _nothing_.”

“Detective,” Lucifer began, but was unsure of what else to say. This wasn't easy. He had to skirt around telling the truth, and not let it be a lie. He wouldn’t do nothing, of course he wouldn’t, but this was all too dangerous to involve Chloe or Maze. It was better he kept them at a distance, even if it meant they’d be angry at him. Or worse.

“No,” he said firmly. Ignoring Maze’s stunned scowl and the Detective’s disappointment was a lot harder than he’d expected, and Pruflas wouldn’t even look at him, but it would be worth it to keep them safe. “We don’t know enough, and I’m not dragging Azrael from whatever hole she fell into to… to deal with _this_.”

“So you’re gonna do nothing?” Maze asked incredulously. Lucifer didn’t answer. What could he say? He didn’t lie, and saying too much would give himself away. So he remained silent, staring into the bottom of his refilled glass.

“Right,” his demon huffed. “You know, you can pretend we’re falling for,” she gestured at him with a sweep of her hand, whiskey glass and all, “whatever this is, but I know you’re up to something.”

“Believe what you like, Mazikeen,” Lucifer made himself say, and finished his drink. “The Detective and I have an M.E. to visit.”


	4. Don't Fear the Reaper

After breaking the news to Chloe and Maze that he wouldn’t do anything, Lucifer had made a quick retreat from the penthouse. He couldn’t have either of them questioning him on his reluctance to help. Not lying meant that he’d only give himself away, or not be able to speak at all, because he wasn’t reluctant to help, he was reluctant to get either of them involved. Lucifer had to keep them safe.

Of course, it was inevitable that as they drove away from Lux, the Detective would try to find out what he was hiding.

“What’s going on with you?” She asked after a stretched out silence between them.

“Nothing, Detective. Everything’s fine.”

“No, you see, if everything was fine then you’d tell me what’s going on.” Lucifer opened his mouth to speak but she held up a hand to stop him. “What’s _really_ going on, Lucifer.”

They stared at one another as he tried to think of something to say, but in the end all Lucifer could say was, “I can’t.”

She nodded and turned away from him, resigned and disappointed. She’d obviously hoped for more, but he couldn’t give it to her. He’d already told Chloe more than he’d wanted to. The more she knew, and the more involved she became, the more dangerous things would become for her and Trixie.

“You know,” the Detective opened her car door, “I really thought things would change between us once I knew the truth, but...” She faltered and shook her head. Lucifer reached out his hand to hold hers, but she pulled it away and swallowed thickly. “I can’t.”

After that, Chloe insisted that they needed to get back to their case. It was all she wanted to talk about. He knew that work was her way of coping, and it was the only normal thing they had that wasn’t connected to the disaster shaping around them. He’d also known that refusing to find Azrael would put a wedge between them; that she’d think he didn’t care.

Lucifer still worried about her, regardless of what she thought, and was hesitant to let her leave Lux in the first place, but their case had to continue. There was no evidence that it was linked to the Horsemen, only a witness describing a man that _might_ have been War, and that hadn't been enough to put Chloe off going to work. She was frustratingly dedicated to her job, Lucifer already knew that, and there was no talking her out of speaking to the new M.E.

“Chloe!” A cheery voice called from across the bullpen. They’d barely descended the stairs to the precinct when they were spotted by their enthusiastic friend.

“Ella?” The Detective questioned in surprise as the lab tech hurried over and hugged her tight. “How’re you feeling?”

“Oh, much, _much_ better,” Ella smiled. Lucifer tried to step back, but he wasn’t quick enough and soon enough she’d turned on him and pulled him into her firm embrace. “It’s kinda weird. It’s like, one second I was so sick I couldn’t move, and the next?” She did a weird gesture with her hands that looked a bit like an explosion, or an odd shrug. “Totally fine. Like I was never ill. And you know the weirdest thing?”

“Should I?” Lucifer hesitated.

“I had this bizarro dream about you right before I got better.” Chloe looked up at him, and Lucifer looked the other way. “I know, right? He just appeared in this bright light, with _wings_.” She carried on talking, wildly moving her hands as she explained what she’d seen and heard, but Lucifer lost focus. He hadn’t expected her to _remember_. He’d thought she’d sleep, wake up, and forget it all like the dream it definitely wasn’t.

“Clearly a hypnagogic hallucination, but it felt so real,” Ella finished, to his relief. So she didn’t believe it was real? She stared at him, then at Chloe, and uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“ _Anyway_ , I know it sounds crazy but you’re… not looking at me like I’m crazy. Why aren’t you looking at me like I’m crazy?” There was the desperation and mild panic that Lucifer was used to. It wasn’t quite as fear-filled as a reaction from someone who’d seen his devil face, but miss Lopez was a believer. He didn’t want to ruin that faith, even if it was in his Dad.

Lucifer fixed his cuffs and wished Chloe would say _something_ , but she just stared at him in much the same way miss Lopez was. They had a look of amazement in their eyes that he couldn’t understand.

“Lucifer,” Chloe finally said, almost reverently.

“Guys, what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, miss Lopez,” Lucifer answered curtly and plucked the files from her hands. “As I keep telling the Detective.” How was he supposed to get on with the important task of ending the apocalypse with everyone staring at him? They could do that after. “What’s this?”

“Oh. Right,” Ella said clumsily, like she’d forgotten about the files. “They’re images from the security footage.” Lucifer nodded for her to go on, but Chloe remained worryingly silent. “The one from the building site?”

Lucifer opened the file and, sure enough, it was full of poor-quality pictures of their crime scene. He thumbed through them quickly, studiously ignoring the odd looks he was getting. The first few were of the builders working, including their victim - Joel Sergeant - but then a motorbike came into shot.

“Detective,” Lucifer said, and Chloe snapped out of whatever trance she was in. She cleared her throat, stopped staring at him, and looked down at the image in his hand.

“Is that...?” She asked, taking the file from him.

“That’s him,” Lucifer confirmed. “I think.”

“You don’t know what they look like?” Chloe questioned, with a concerned frown as she flicked to the next image.

“They change their look,” Lucifer explained, with a rising discomfort. Why did the Detective always have to be the one to end up with the cases connected to demons? It was like Dad was _still_ toying with him. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she was a miracle.

“They’re dressing how you humans dress,” he went on, ignoring those thoughts. There was no use in keeping this information from her. It’d only make her more determined to work the case and find out the truth for herself.

“How we dressed 80 years ago, maybe,” Chloe corrected. “I mean, what uniform is that?”

“It’s more a jumble of uniforms,” Lucifer noted. “British, American, French.” He pointed to various points of Guerra’s uniform; the jacket, the belt, the helmet. “And German, I think. The gas mask’s definitely British.”

“Well, whatever it is, he should be easy to spot.”

“He would be if we were looking for him,” Lucifer amended. “Which we’re not.”

“This is about our case, Lucifer,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Guys, seriously, what’s going on?” Ella interrupted. Lucifer had almost forgotten she was still there and not in the know. Even if she did remember seeing his wings.

“It’s nothing, miss Lopez,” he assured her again with a forced smile. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

In a hurry to leave and do what they’d originally gone to the precinct to do, Lucifer took the photos from Chloe’s hand, slipped them back into the file, and walked away. He heard Ella saying something behind him, that might have been ‘see you later?’, but he ignored it. Even as Chloe walked behind him, struggling to keep up with her smaller strides, Lucifer kept walking.

“Did you heal Ella?” The Detective asked him then, and he felt his heart sink. That was all wrong. Asking if he’d _healed_ her made it sound like something miraculous and _angelic_. It hadn’t been that at all. He’d simply plucked a feather to stop their friend from dying. It was nothing.

“Let’s focus on our case, shall we?” Lucifer reminded as they came to the M.E’s door. He pointed to the name on the window with the case file, _Dr. A. Morgan_ , and hoped that’d be the end of her questioning. “Starting with Dr Morgan.”

But that wasn’t the end of it. Chloe grabbed his hand and stopped him from opening door.

“If you expect me to believe that you’d _heal_ Ella, but you’ll do nothing to stop what’s going on out there, then...” She struggled for words, probably because she was so frustrated with him. She held his hand tighter, like she was worried he would pull away, but she didn’t say anything else.

“Then?” Lucifer prompted.

“Then you don’t know me,” Chloe finished in a loud whisper. “Whatever you’re going to do, _don’t_ do it alone.”

“If you say so, Detective. Now can I open this door?” Slowly, hesitantly, Chloe loosened her grip on him and let go. Lucifer nodded, sent her a smile, and turned to step into the M.E’s lab. Without knocking.

It was decorated very similar to miss Lopez’s lab. There were screens and computers, medical and testing equipment, all laid out under glaring fluorescent lights. But Lucifer was sure that Ella’s lab didn’t smell of lilies, and in the middle, instead of a table, was a steel gurney with their victim stretched out on top of it. Behind, with her back to them, stood the M.E. in a white lab coat with her dark hair pulled back into a bun.

Lucifer stopped. His hand was still on the door handle, and he was ready to slam it shut when the woman turned around.

“Oh, for Dad’s sake,” he sighed. This was the last thing he needed.

“Lucifer,” ‘ _Dr Morgan’_ greeted with a bright, red-lipsticked grin. “I wondered when you’d come to find me.”

“Right,” he held up a finger and pointed to both the Detective and the M.E. “For the record, I _did not_ come and find you.” Both women just looked at him, clearly disbelieving that he somehow didn’t know who the new medical examiner was. “I didn’t,” he reiterated, and pointed again at the name on the door. “Dr Morgan?”

“Were you looking for something more obvious? Maybe I should have gone for Mourningstar,” she suggested in her soft Scottish brogue, as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “You know, with a U?”

"Yes, thank you, Azrael, I get it." Of course the cause of death had been found already. Azrael didn't need to cut the man open to know what had happened to him, and she probably already knew about Guerra. At least they’d all be able to speak frankly.

“So you fell,” he stated bluntly, and for just a second, Azrael’s smile faltered.

She didn’t answer him, and Lucifer remembered the last time he’d talked to Chloe about his sister. He’d told her that Maze and him would punish her, but if she’d fallen then that changed things. Being the angel of death _was_ Azrael; it was who she’d always been. He felt a twinge of sadness for her. She wasn’t like him. She’d enjoyed who she was. Now that she’d lost that, it seemed like punishment enough.

“I’ve been trying to get to know humanity,” she said cheerily, breaking their awkward silence.

“In a morgue?” Lucifer mused.

“Not just that,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been doing what humans do. I have this job, a car,” Azrael enthusiastically listed off on her fingers. “I even got a cat.”

“A cat?” Chloe repeated.

“Her name's Styx.”

"I have a cat, too,” Lucifer added. “His name's Pruflas.” The Detective looked at him then, with a soft frown and slightly wide eyes. He kicked himself for making the mistake of bringing up his butler. But then he had another thought, one that might explain her wariness of the demon-cat.

“Are you afraid of cats, Detective?”

“No,” she answered quickly, and sighed when he arched an eyebrow at her. “My mom had one,” she explained, “When I was a kid. It hated anyone that wasn’t her.”

“That explains a lot,” he said thoughtfully. They used to send Pruflas to the rooms of souls with ailurophobia. Maybe the Detective couldn’t sense the demon’s hidden face, or Maze’s or his own. Maybe she could just sense that the demon was meant to scare her. In reality, Pruflas was an overgrown fur ball that had never been much good at torturing.

“Not to worry,” Lucifer assured her. “Pruflas is friendly enough.”

Chloe sent him a small smile, but seemed unsure of how to proceed. She’d been thrown off kilter by meeting his sister again, and the mention of Pruflas. She knew how to deal with their cases normally, and how to question people, but Azrael wasn’t a normal person. She’d killed people. She’d been the murderer in their last case. She was the reason he’d had to reveal his wings to the Detective, to _save_ her, and now she was standing proudly before them as if none of it had happened.

“Do you--” Chloe cleared her throat. “Do you have the cause of death?”

Azrael gave her a look, as if the Detective had insulted her.

“Aye, why else would I call you here?” She asked, and pulled back the sheet covering Joel Sergeant. He’d turned a dark shade of grey since they’d last seen him, but as Lucifer had expected, there was no sign of Azrael having carried out an autopsy.

“He’s multiple broken bones,” Azrael pointed along his chest and up his arm, as if she could see precisely where each bone and rib was broken. “And a punctured lung. That’s the official cause of death.” She looked up at them and smiled. “He drowned in his own blood.”

“Lovely,” Lucifer muttered.

“The _official_ cause,” Chloe repeated, slipping slowly back into her comfort zone. “What was the actual cause?”

“Good question,” his sister said, impressed that the Detective had caught her precise wording. “He fell.”

“Fell?”

“He must’ve taken a wee tumble off,” she waved her hand dismissively, “Whatever it was they were building.”

Chloe frowned and looked back at him, and Lucifer frowned back. If that was the unofficial cause, that Azrael was reluctant to officially declare, then there must have been something else she wasn’t telling them. Nevermind the fact that the building was in the early stages, and Lucifer doubted that a fall from that height would kill someone so… violently.

“That’s it?” Lucifer asked. “It was an accident?” He watched his sister closely until she sighed and lifted the man’s arm. It was stiff and blackening, but she pointed to something hidden on the inside of his forearm. Bruises.

“He has defensive wounds, on both arms,” she began to list off. Some of the purple, almost black marks looked like fingertips. “And lacerations all up his back.”

“From the fall,” Chloe assumed.

“No,” Azrael corrected, dropping the man’s arm abruptly. “From a blade. My guess would be a curved sword.” She met Lucifer’s eyes and gave him a far too cunning smile for his liking. “But Lucifer knows more about Assyrian weapons than I do. Maybe you’d like to take a look?”

“Assyrian?” He repeated, ignoring her jibe.

“I’ve seen marks like it before. Many years ago,” she answered with a nod. “Must be another one of your escaped demons.”

“His _what_?” The Detective asked, and Lucifer closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, counted to ten, and looked back down at the body. He deliberately ignored the amused look on Azrael’s face, or the worried glances from Chloe as she looked between them.

“Du willst nicht, dass dein Mensch es herausfindet, oder?” Azrael’s German caught him off guard, but he was thankful for it. Lucifer looked across to Chloe and knew that his sister was right. He didn’t want her to know. She already knew too much; enough to now put her in danger.

“Natürlich nicht,” he answered shortly.

“Warum nicht?”

“Du weißt warum.” Lucifer glanced at the Detective again. “Ich habe ihr noch nicht alles gesagt.”

Chloe looked utterly lost and understandably concerned, and he wished he knew how to explain everything to her. But there was too much. It would be too overwhelming to add in the story of Hell’s gates opening, and if she hadn’t ran away yet, she would if she knew the whole truth.

"Es war nicht Krieg?" He asked Azrael, changing the subject quickly. She looked between the two of them, and her smile turned serious.

“Nein. Ich wüsste es, wenn er es gewesen wäre.”

“Meinst du es war ein Dämon?”

"Ich weiß dass es einer war. Ich erkenne die Spuren an der Leiche," Azrael assured him. “Die Tore waren bereits offen als ich ankam um Amitiel zu helfen. Wenn Krieg und die anderen entkommen konnten...” She trailed off, but it was enough for Lucifer to understand what she was telling him. She looked at Chloe with sad eyes, considered something, and then slipped back into English. “It could've been anyone, but,” Azrael paused, her eyes now dropped to the body between them. “I heard rumours that he’d got out.”

“Who?” Lucifer and Chloe asked.

Azrael met his eyes seriously, all trace of her smile and amusement gone.

“Asmodeus.”

Lucifer felt like a heavy weight crashed into his chest. If anyone - or any demon - was capable of triggering the apocalypse early, it was _him_.

He looked across to Chloe, who was still watching him closely, and thought about Daniel and Miss Lopez. Daniel was still sick. If he didn’t do something, the child would lose her father and the Detective would lose her friend - _his_ friend. And here was his sister, Death, telling him so matter-of-factly that his suspicions were correct. His sister with her new human job in a morgue, her cat called Styx, and her new car-- _Wait._

“What kind of car do you have?”

“What?” Azrael and Chloe asked in unison.

“Your car,” Lucifer said slower. “What model is it?”

“A Pegaso,” his sister answered, baffled by his sudden turn in conversation. “It’s a 1955 model, you’d love it. It’s a sort of pale--”

“Don’t,” Lucifer interrupted lowly, “Tell me you have a pale car named after a horse.” Azrael fell silent, and looked awkwardly between himself and Chloe. They both knew what that meant, and Azrael couldn’t say anything without giving away to the Detective what was going on.

“ _What’s your job_?” He asked her in their native tongue. It had been a long time since he’d last spoken Enochian, and it disturbed Lucifer how easily he slipped back into the angelic language. “ _What will happen to them?_ ”

“ _You already know, esiasch,_ ” Azrael told him remorsefully. “ _We all have a part to play, remember?_ ”

“ _Tell me._ ”

“ _The sick will get sicker. The poor and hungry will get poorer and hungrier. That’s if they don’t finish each other off first._ ”

“ _Then you swoop in to finish them all off,_ ” he concluded, and Azrael nodded. She didn’t seem proud anymore, but she didn’t seem resigned to the fate she’d been given, either. If anything, she looked ashamed.

With sad eyes, his sister rounded the gurney and came to stand in front of him. It took a lot for Lucifer to make himself stand still, waiting to see what she’d do. If Azrael was like either of their parents, it was their mother, and he felt that keenly when she lifted her hand to his cheek.

“Aye,” she answered sadly. “Because humans die, Lucifer. That is at least one thing I understand.”

Lucifer took a step back, and another, until he felt Chloe press gently against his back.

“I think we’ve learnt all we can here, Detective,” he told her, his eyes fixed on Azrael. She dropped her hand and turned back to the body beside them. Lucifer watched her in wary silence as she covered the victim back up, and Chloe tugged on his sleeve for him to follow her out.

Lucifer went with her willingly, standing between Azrael and the Detective, until he could click the door shut behind them. Both of them were quiet, and he wished Azrael had continued their game of speaking in other languages. That may have worried Chloe, but at least she wouldn’t have heard the finality in Azrael’s words.

 _Human’s die_.

Shaking the words from his mind, Lucifer turned to Chloe before she could walk away. He slipped his hand into hers, and attempted a smile when she turned to look at him curiously.

“Detective, please don’t--”

“Guys,” someone interrupted, and Lucifer tried not to groan. “What’s going on?” Ella was back, and her eyes lit up when neither of them could answer her. He didn’t think he’d ever seen such a bright smile on her face, and that was saying a lot.

“Are you two--?” She stopped and did an odd hand gesture with her fingers that even Lucifer couldn’t decipher this time, and he liked to think he knew all naughty hand gestures. He’d even invented some of them himself.

“Are we hitting sticks together?” Lucifer guessed.

“What? _No_ , are you--?” She did it again and the Detective sighed loudly, stopping both of them.

“No, Ella,” she answered wearily. “We’re not together.”

“Right,” Ella said slowly, drawing out the word. Lucifer frowned at both women. Why would she think they were--? _Oh._ He let go of Chloe’s hand quickly.

“Well,” he clapped his hands together and stepped around Ella. “We best be going.”

“Yeah,” Chloe added awkwardly, shuffling after him.

“Lots of crime to solve.”

“Loads.”

“So we’ll just--” He pointed back towards the exit with his thumbs, and both him and the Detective made a quick retreat. Almost.

“Oh, and miss Lopez?” Lucifer stopped her before she could walk away, peaking around the corner of the corridor at her. “I haven’t forgotten my promise. I’ll have a new microscope with you tomorrow.”

With that, he and the Detective left behind a speechless Ella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone that commented on the last chapter. Sorry this took so long! And I want to say a very big thank you to Aeshna_cyanea for the German translation. For anyone who's interested, I've posted that scene with the English translation on my tumblr [here](http://mareyshelley.tumblr.com/post/175315954620/the-noise-of-thunder).


	5. The Talk

The following morning, on his way into the precinct with a neatly wrapped package under his arm, Chloe stopped him. She wordlessly tugged on Lucifer’s sleeve, pulled him over to her desk, and made him sit down.

“You outted yourself to Ella,” she whispered, and her words sounded like a warning, even though Lucifer couldn’t see why. What was there to ‘out’ himself about? He thought it was common knowledge who and what he was.

“You mean she didn’t know?” he asked incredulously, and Chloe pulled a face.

“How would she know?” she shot back, sitting herself on the edge of her desk so their faces were closer.

“I’ve always been very open about it,” he said, puzzled.

“That doesn’t mean she believed you.”

“Why wouldn’t she believe me?”

“Because it sounds ridiculous!”

“Well,” Lucifer stood, straightened his suit and fixed his cuffs. “I’m disappointed, Detective. There’s nothing ridiculous about loving men.”

Chloe just stared at him, and Lucifer got the sneaking suspicion that he’d missed something.

He was right.

“I’m talking about you being Lucifer, Lucifer.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t care that you,” she waved her hand at him and copied his accent, “ _love men._ ”

Feeling a little foolish, it took him a moment to fully understand what the Detective was telling him. _Ella knew_. He wasn’t sure how he’d ‘outted’ himself to her, but something must have changed her mind about her dream actually being real. It turned his gift for her into more of a peace offering, if she’d even accept such a thing from him now.

“Did you really appear in a bright light?” Chloe asked him, and there was a hint of awe in her voice. He didn’t like it.

“Of course not. I was standing in front of the window,” he answered in a huff, hoping to dismiss all angelic thoughts from the Detective’s mind. It didn’t work.

“Right. I just thought, with you being the light--”

“I’m not anymore, Detective,” Lucifer interrupted gently. “I’m just the Devil.”

“ _Just_?”

“Yes. Just the Devil who needs to go and have a word with a certain forensic scientist.”

With a sinking weight in his stomach, Lucifer tried to smile at Chloe and headed to Ella’s lab with his package now balanced on one hand. He was thankful that the Detective didn’t follow him, but her brief smile back had been encouragement enough.

Lucifer knocked on the lab door, and unable to wait even a second, he stepped inside. Miss Lopez was in there, but her back was to him. He soon realised that, if he had waited, he would have been waiting a long time. She bopped gently from one foot to the other, singing softly under her breath, and Lucifer saw a flash of wire as she turned around.

“Oh!” Caught somewhere between surprise and mild panic, Ella promptly pulled her earbuds from her ears and took a step back. He wasn’t sure if she deliberately wanted to put space between them, or if she was just startled to see him there. Lucifer quickly decided he didn’t want to know.

“Miss Lopez,” he greeted, suddenly even more unsure than when he’d first walked in. Ella just stared at him, wide eyed with her hand on her chest, and he sighed heavily. Maybe he should have given her some space for a day or two, or a few weeks.

 _Well_ , he thought resolutely and pushed forward his brightest smile. _There’s no going back now._

“I brought you something,” Lucifer went on, and took a step forward to slip the package onto the table in the middle of the room. Ella watched him closely, putting away her earbuds and phone without taking her eyes away from him or the brightly wrapped, yellow gift.

After what felt like several moments, she took a tentative step forward, and another, until she was close enough to pull the box to herself. She gingerly ripped at the yellow paper, casting him several glances as she did so, and Lucifer felt the buzz of nervous energy in his stomach grow.

What if she didn’t like it? It may have been the wrong model, although he’d been assured by the man he’d bought it from that it was the latest one. Would her rejection of _it_ mean a rejection of _him_?

Lucifer became so lost in his own nerves that he didn’t realise Ella had unboxed her gift, and was holding the microscope carefully in both hands, as if it was something incredibly precious.

“So it’s true,” she said quietly as she turned to face him.

“Yes.” Lucifer gave an affirmative nod and Ella put the microscope down. “I’m… sorry. I know how important faith is--” She threw herself at him, and Lucifer suddenly found himself in an incredibly tight hug for such a small human. “Miss Lopez?”

“This is so sweet.”

“What?”

“Don’t you see?” She let go of him, to his relief, and her wariness was replaced with an eager smile. “You didn’t just,” she waved her hands between them, “Break my microscope and leave. I mean, yeah, you broke it and left.”

“Yes, I know,” Lucifer said, confused.

“But you _came back_ with a replacement,” she finished, and he was still lost. “You didn’t ruin my faith, Lucifer. If anything, you coming here’s just strengthened it.”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that, but Ella didn’t seem to want an answer. She looked equally happy, relieved, and thankful. He may have been confused, and he may have disliked her faith in his Dad, but Lucifer smiled back.

“So you’re not...” He nodded his head, willing her to understand. “Scared?”

“Dude, no. How could I be scared of you?” She looked outraged for all of a second, before a sheepish smile crept onto her face. “I mean, I was. A bit. But then you bought me this awesome gift, and look at you!” She waved her hands at him again and Lucifer leaned back. “What kinda big bad brings his friends presents?”

“A very charming one?” he offered, and Ella laughed.

“One who isn’t so big and bad after all,” she corrected.

After that, and another ardent hug from Ella, she shooed Lucifer back to work. It was at least one weight from his mind, but he still worried about how he was going to keep them all safe. If Lucifer couldn’t find Asmodeus, if Asmodeus wasn’t behind the Horsemen being on Earth, then he had no idea what he could do to save them all.

Work with the Detective was slow. He got the impression that she was reluctant to follow up on the eyewitness reports from the building site. She was holding back. They knew that Guerra wasn’t their killer, he was just the cause of the killer’s anger, but Chloe seemed to not want to work that case at all.

The day dragged on, until finally, after a couple of quick texts, Lucifer agreed to meet Chloe at Lux. They had a lot to talk about. Maze and Amenadiel were already in the penthouse when he arrived, and Pruflas had already poured the two of them a drink each. Maze drank hers, Amenadiel stared at his thoughtfully.

It wasn’t long before the elevator doors pinged open again, as Lucifer sat himself beside Maze at the bar.

“Detective,” he greeted with a small smile. “Are you ready for our meeting?”

Chloe looked between the three of them, and Lucifer could only imagine what she was thinking. It was the first time she’d seen Amenadiel since finding out the truth. He noticed the Detective’s eyes linger on his brother, and then sweep across to Pruflas as the demon-cat reappeared at the bar.

“A drink, Detective?” Lucifer offered, and belatedly noticed Trixie rushing in from behind her mother. She hurried over to both himself and Maze, hugged the latter tightly, and then turned to him with a bright grin. “And maybe an orange juice?”

“Orange?” Trixie repeated, wrinkling her little nose slightly, but he could see the mischief in her dark eyes. “I want apple.”

Lucifer felt himself grin despite the topic they were all gathered to discuss, and turned to give Pruflas a nod.

“An old favourite,” he noted as Chloe sat beside him. “Your daughter has taste.”

Chloe’s nerves seemed to lift once she was seated with a whiskey in her hands, and Lucifer smiled easily at her. She smiled back and they wordlessly clinked their glasses together before taking a sip.

“So,” Amenadiel spoke, his deep voice drawing Lucifer’s attention away from Chloe. The three of them looked to his brother, but Amenadiel only looked at Lucifer. “You want to stop the apocalypse.” Lucifer couldn’t tell if that was amazement or mirth in his brother voice. He sounded incredulous, and Lucifer could already tell what his brother would say to the request of help.

“In a manner of speaking,” he nodded. “Yes.”

“We shouldn’t interfere,” Amenadiel said gently, and rose from his barstool. “There’s a reason this is happening now.”

“I know,” Lucifer returned calmly, turning his back to Amenadiel. “Someone’s triggered it.”

“What if it was Father, Luci?” His brother stood a short distance behind him, but Lucifer refused to look.

“Why would he? He’s had it planned for the same date for aeons. Why bring it forward now?”

“It may be a test,” Amenadiel suggested. “To see how we react.”

“I know how I’m reacting,” Lucifer tilted his head to send Maze a knowing smile, and the demon grinned back.

“I _knew_ you’d have a plan.” Finishing her drink, Maze slammed down her glass and leaned towards him. “Come on. What is it?”

Drawing out the silence for effect, Lucifer calmly finished his own drink and swivelled in his seat to face the three of them. Trixie had already wandered off, with her little glass of apple juice, to sit at his coffee table and draw one of her childish pictures. He watched her for a moment, with a growing warmth in his chest. Lucifer didn’t know what it was, or why he suddenly felt very protective, but he looked away before anyone else could notice.

“We need to find Asmodeus,” he said simply.

Amenadiel gawked at him for a second, before he remembered himself and straightened up. Maze only frowned.

“He’s out?” she asked, with barely hidden concern. “How do you know?”

“A little bird of death told me,” Lucifer said. Azrael’s word was as good as anyone else’s, and Amenadiel accepted it easily. Maze, on the other hand, seemed less convinced.

“He would have tried to find you,” she pointed out. “We’d know if he’d escaped.”

“Nobody knew about Nybbas,” Pruflas offered from behind Lucifer. He’d almost forgotten about his butler, and he turned so quickly to look at him that the demon jumped back a step. “Sorry, sir.”

Lucifer offered him a small smile and a nod of his head. “He has a point,” he said to the group.

“Who’s Nybbas?” Amenadiel asked impatiently.

“A demon. He likes to give people prophetic nightmares,” Lucifer explained, and waved a hand towards Trixie. “Ask the child.”

“ _What_?” Chloe barely had a chance to speak, before his brother spoke again, but Lucifer noted the concern on her face. That was another thing he’d have to explain to her at some point.

“That’s different,” Amenadiel said adamantly. “I doubt a demon could interfere with God's plan, Luci.”

Maze snorted, and Lucifer was inclined to agree with her. If a lower demon like Nybbas could cause him to have dreams of Hell, then he dreaded to think what a powerful demon could do on Earth. They _had_ to find him.

Lucifer thought about Maze and Chloe’s reactions when he’d told them that he wouldn’t do anything. He understood now how disappointed they must have felt.

“Doing nothing,” he said measuredly, “Won’t help anyone, will it? But I’m sure Dad would love to pin some wings on your back when the world’s in ruins.”

“I’m not doing this to get my wings back. I’m thinking of the people we care for.” Amenadiel took a step closer, ever the serious older brother, but Lucifer couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “Father could go after them if we stand in his way.”

“You?” Lucifer asked, ignoring his brother’s warning. “Ha! Who do you care about, brother?”

“I have friends,” Amenadiel insisted.

“Doctor Linda doesn’t count. She was my friend first.”

“Boys.” They both turned to look at Maze, who was leaning back against the bar as if the whole thing held no interest to her. “While you two fight,” she said, “I’m gonna go out there and look for you-know-who.”

She left without another word, and Lucifer watched her go. He didn’t want her to go anywhere near Asmodeus - not alone, anyway - but she was the best bounty hunter out there. If anyone could find that king of demons, it was Maze.

“If she’s leaving,” Amenadiel said, “then so am I.”

“Maze is leaving to do a job,” Lucifer pointed out, and turned his back to his brother again. It felt like their roles were suddenly reversed. Amenadiel was always so pushy about stopping him from doing something, or encouraging him to do whatever his brother thought their father wanted. Now it was Lucifer pushing Amenadiel to do something, regardless of whether or not their father wanted it. It seemed both of them could be stubborn.

“I won’t do nothing, Lucifer,” he heard his brother say, and turned to see him waiting for the elevator. “I’ll do what I can to keep my stubborn brother safe,” Amenadiel continued, with a hint of a sad smile, “but I won’t help you _stop_ this.”

Once he was gone, Lucifer was left alone with a quiet Detective and an artistic child. Pruflas clinked more glasses together as he cleaned up and refilled Lucifer’s own drink. He could feel Chloe watching him, her eyes burning with questions, as he thanked his butler for the drink and left her side. He needed to think, and the best place to do that was on his balcony, in the cool evening air.

“You should stay here, Detective,” he said, when he felt her behind him in the doorway. “You’ll be safe here.” _From them_ , he neglected to tack on. _Or from Asmodeus_. Whichever it was they managed to find first.

“While you’re out there?” she asked. There was a nervous quaver in her voice, but Lucifer could hear how determined she was. Chloe was not going to let him leave her out. It’d be foolish to expect her to sit on the sidelines while her or her daughter could be in danger, but she couldn’t be near him. If Lucifer was to fight Asmodeus, or any of the Horsemen, then Chloe had to be as far away from him as possible.

“Of course,” he said quietly.

“I want to help,” she pushed.

“You can help me by staying here,” Lucifer said bluntly. It wasn’t kind to snap at her, but maybe his tone would be enough to stop Chloe from being around him. He could keep them both safe by pushing her away. “I can’t have you near me.”

“How does that help?”

“It keeps us all safe.”

“You’re talking in riddles _again_ ,” the Detective said wearily. “Nothing's changed, has it? I find out one secret about you, and there’s still more I don’t know.”

She was right.

“To keep you safe,” Lucifer told her quietly. Chloe came to stand beside him at the railing, but he could feel her eyes on him, not on the view of the city below.

“Then why did you want me here?”

Stumped, Lucifer glanced at Chloe and saw nothing but confusion and worry. Whether she was worried about him, them, or everything that was going on, he couldn’t say. It was enough to stop him from looking at her again.

“Because,” he said, trying to keep his voice even, “there’s some things you have to know, to keep you safe.” Lucifer paused, and then quietly added. “To keep _us_ safe.”

“Like what?” she challenged. “Like there’s demons out there? That my daughter apparently knows one of them?”

 _She knows more than one,_ Lucifer thought, but realised it was probably best not to tell her that. He looked back into the penthouse, and saw Pruflas hesitantly offering Trixie more apple juice. The girl nodded and held up her glass to the demon-butler, and Lucifer felt himself smile.

“Not just that,” he said to Chloe. “There’s… a reason you have to stay here. I wanted you to understand why it’s important.”

“Lucifer, if you told me we were safer here, then I’d believe you. You don’t,” she stopped, and turned to follow his gaze into the penthouse. For a moment, they both watched Trixie happily showing her drawings to Pruflas. “You don’t need to scare me into staying.”

“I’m not trying to, Detective.” Chloe looked at him then, and he looked back out at the city. “You make me vulnerable,” he forced himself to say, and the words sounded as strained and unsteady as he felt. “And I can’t have you nearby when I confront  _them_.”

“What do you mean?” He could see in her face that Chloe was desperately trying to understand what he was telling her. Just like Lucifer was determined not to speak in riddles anymore. He had to make her understand.

“I’m mortal. When I’m around you.”

Her mouth fell open, but she was quiet for several, long seconds as she stared at him. Lucifer could _see_ her thinking through everything that he’d just told her, and maybe things that he’d told her in the past, too. He wished he could hear her thoughts, or tell what she was feeling just from her expression. All he could make out was how stunned she was, and still a little confused.

When she finally spoke, he knew exactly what she’d been thinking about.

“How did you get the professor’s antidote?” she asked quietly.

"I asked him for it," Lucifer said. He could tell immediately that that wasn’t a good enough answer for the Detective.

" _How_?"

"Where do you think he went when he died?" He tried for a smile, even a hint of a laugh, but it fell flat when he saw Chloe’s confusion turn to upset.

"You went to Hell?"

Lucifer had to look away then. It had been an overcast day, and night had fallen already. He focused so hard on the traffic lights on the street below, that they became a blur before he could force himself to speak.

"Why are you so surprised, Detective? It was once my domain."

"How did you get there?"

"The same way he did."

There was a pause, and then, "Oh, my G--" Chloe caught herself, just, and covered his hand with hers over the railing. " _Lucifer_."

"Detective." He still couldn’t look at her.

“You died,” she said so quietly that he hardly heard her. He nodded. "Why would you do something like that?" Chloe sounded desperate, her eyes wide with concern, but he couldn’t answer her. He’d already told her too much, and anything else would just complicate their relationship beyond repair.

"Lucifer?" Chloe tried to coax him into talking, but he just stared down at the street below. "Lucifer, look at me," she pleaded, and Lucifer finally lifted his eyes to meet hers. She looked both determined and desperate to make him understand.

"My life," the Detective said, squeezing his hand, " _I_ _s not_ more important than yours."

Lucifer stared down at Chloe’s hand covering his, and felt a war of emotions. Did she really think, given the opportunity to save her life, that he wouldn’t do it? Death was nothing to him. He knew what awaited him whenever he died, and he knew that he’d always find a way back.

“I’m immortal,” he reminded her, and slipped his hand out from under hers. Lucifer smiled, pushing forward what charm he could muster in that moment. “My life is endless.” And he wished he could say the same for Chloe. If nothing else, he could at least make sure that whatever life she did have was long.

Azrael’s words ran through his head, and he took an uneasy step back from the Detective.

_Human’s die._

“You’ll be careful?” Chloe asked him. She must have been able to tell that he was getting ready to leave. Maze would need time to find Asmodeus, but Lucifer could use that time to prepare himself.

“Don’t worry, Detective. Have you ever known me to be reckless?”


	6. The Harrowing

Maze hadn’t had a problem finding Asmodeus. It had taken her most of the night, it was nearly morning by the time they left to face him, but the demon carried the stench of brimstone and ash, and she’d caught his trail easily enough. It helped, Lucifer supposed, that Asmodeus had been drawn to the same abandoned church that Pruflas and Shax had been, when they’d kidnapped Trixie.

“St Mary’s,” Lucifer said as he pulled the corvette up outside. “Apparently this is the place to be if you’re a newly escaped demon.”

“Lucifer,” Maze whispered, drawing his attention away from the church.

His demon was looking skywards, up at the dark, rumbling clouds of the early morning. They flashed a dull light with the threat of lightning, but that wasn’t what Maze was looking at. In fact, Lucifer doubted she was _looking_ at anything. It was the noise accompanying the rolling thunder that troubled Maze. It was the sound of clarions calling.

“Michael?” Maze asked, unsure.

“Oh, I bet he’s loving this,” Lucifer hissed and tore his eyes away from the sky. “Come on.”

Like the last time he’d rushed to St Mary’s to save Trixie, the oak doors swung open without a lock or protest. They banged heavily against the walls, and Lucifer stalked in slowly with Maze behind him. The smell of brimstone, that his demon had told him about, hit him immediately. It was so strong that it was almost like being back in Hell itself, or being trapped in another of Nybbas’ dreams.

Lucifer made it to the centre of the church before he heard or saw any sign of life. Ahead of him, near the altar, he saw something reptilian slither through the shadows. Black scales shimmered in what little light the stained glass windows offered. It may have been close to morning, but the inside of the church was unnaturally dark.

“Lucifer,” the figure in the darkness greeted pleasantly. “And Mazikeen!” A man stepped forward, his arms outstretched as if he meant to embrace the two of them. He looked to be around ten years older than Lucifer, and a few inches shorter. “What a wonderful surprise,” he said with a smile, and dropped his arms when he realised neither Lucifer nor Maze were going to approach him.

His smile was deceptively kind and inviting, behind the beginnings of a greying beard. Lucifer knew that a lot of humans could mistaken the demon for a fatherly figure, if he wanted them to. He had that kind of warm, trustworthy voice and easy smile, but Lucifer knew better.

“Asmodeus,” he greeted warily. “Just popping in to see how things are going.” He glanced around the dusty and crumbling church. “Rather well, I see.”

“That’s very kind of you, Lucifer,” Asmodeus said, placing his hand over his heart as if their visit deeply touched him. He took a step towards them, testing what Lucifer or Maze would do, and then smiled again. “Everything’s going… _so_ well. And what about you two, hm? What trouble have you found yourselves in?”

“Oh, you know,” Lucifer waved his hand flippantly, but it was Maze that answered for him.

“We’re here to stop you,” the demon said flatly. She lifted her hand to point at Asmodeus, and Lucifer could see her demon blade from the corner of his eye.

“Yes,” he agreed, holding up a hand to still Maze. “Thank you, Mazikeen. I had hoped for an element of surprise, but...”

“Stop me?” Asmodeus repeated, and Lucifer _almost_ believed the demon’s frown of confusion. Until he smiled again. “What do you think I’ve done?”

“Have you been outside recently?” Lucifer asked. “The apocalypse is rather hard to miss.”

Asmodeus laughed, but it wasn’t _at_ Lucifer. It was a cheery, amused laugh, almost incredulous.

“You think I started it?”

“Did you?” Lucifer returned, and stared into Asmodeus’ grey eyes. The demon’s smile faltered, for just a brief second, and his eyes darted across to Mazikeen.

“I hadn’t expected you to find me so soon,” he admitted, all smiles and false cheer. “Have a pew. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“No thanks,” Maze said. “I’m just here to kick your ass.”

“Oh,” Asmodeus lifted a hand to the pews, insisting that they sit. They stayed where they were. “I think you’ll want to hear this, Morningstar.”

“You're talking to your lord,” Maze reminded. She’d stopped addressing Lucifer with any sort of title a long time ago. He knew she was only trying to rile Asmodeus so that he’d make a mistake, but Lucifer didn’t like the reminder that he’d _ever_ been Hell’s ruler.

"Former lord," the other demon quickly corrected, wagging his finger at Maze. "An abdicated king," he sing-songed and gestured around them. "That's the point of all this. Hell's been left without a ruler for some time, so I thought, hey, why not take over? It can't be that difficult."

"Why did you bring the Horsemen here if you only want Hell?"

"To best you, Morningstar. To prove my worth as Hell's new ruler." He clasped his hands together, smiling. "And I thought the best way to do that was by dragging most of humanity down into my new domain."

Asmodeus was even crazier than he’d thought. Lucifer remembered their time together in Hell. The demon had occasionally trained with Maze, but he fought dirty, even for a demon, and he always talked too much.

“As thrilling as this monologue is, we’re in a bit of a hurry, so,” Lucifer interjected and turned to Maze. His demon looked up at him with a grin.

“Finally.”

“I haven’t finished talking,” Asmodeus said calmly, but the friendliness in his smile had gone. It was forced, and his eyes darkened with a heavy frown.

“But I’ve finished listening,” Lucifer answered conversationally. “Maze?”

Maze stepped forward, and before Asmodeus could so much as change his form, she ran at him with a flurry of swirling knives. After that, both demons moved in a blur. It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment that their human facades slipped away, and a half-faced Maze began to fight a great lizard that moved like smoke.

Knives and teeth clashed. Maze pounced in a cat-like arch, and Asmodeus disappeared into the darkness of the church like a shadow. But Maze wasn’t determined. They’d danced this dance many times before in Hell, and Lucifer recognised all of their old moves. The pirouettes, the dodges, the lunges and leaps.

Then Asmodeus did something Lucifer had never seen before. The other demon never used weapons. He’d always favoured his own claws or fangs, or the whip of his tail, and that was what Maze had grown to expect when sparring with him. It was a surprise for both of them when a third demon blade glinted in the faint light; held in a raised, taloned hand, ready to throw it at Lucifer.

Maze reacted first. She lunged at Asmodeus and the demon span around, turning his back on him. But Lucifer’s relief was short lived. The huge tail whipped across his chest and knocked Lucifer down. He landed on his knees, the force sending a jolt of pain up his legs and back, but it was all forgotten in an instant. He hadn’t seen her fall, but he saw Maze now as she lay motionless against a splintered pew.

“Maze?” Lucifer crawled towards her, but she didn’t move. He brushed his knuckles down her exposed cheek, hoping she’d react. If anything happened to Maze, that’d be it. There’d be no visiting her in Hell, and certainly no room for her in Heaven. She’d just stop being. Lucifer wasn’t sure if he could picture a world without his demon in it. They’d known each other for far too long for her to not be around anymore.

“Mazikeen?” He tried again, combing her hair from her face. She didn’t respond, and Lucifer could hear Asmodeus beginning to stir behind him.

Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Lucifer took Maze’s knives and pushed himself to stand. He stumbled in his haste to put himself between his demon and Asmodeus, as the other demon slithered to his feet and changed back. He looked down at Maze, stretched out behind Lucifer’s feet, and frowned.

“Oh, dear,” Asmodeus goaded. “She looks terrible.” He grinned wide, far wider than any human face should allow, and looked Lucifer in the eye. He felt sick. “Let’s put her out of her misery.”

Asmodeus’ taunting worked. Lucifer knew exactly the sort of reaction the other demon was hoping for, but Maze was hurt and he couldn’t _not_ do something.

Lucifer charged at Asmodeus, tackling him around the waist, and pushed him back into one of the church’s pillars. It crumbled under the sudden weight, like it was only made of plaster and powder, not solid stone, but Lucifer still had to stumble back to avoid the blocks falling on him.

He tumbled backwards and landed ungracefully on his behind. The only thing that made up for the indignity and pain, was being able to watch as the rubble fell on Asmodeus’ head.

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer panted, “That Mazikeen couldn’t see that.”

The air grew cold around them, while Asmodeus lay as still as Maze. It didn’t feel like they were in L.A. anymore, but some far northern country in the depths of winter. Where the ashy smell of Hell had been lingering in the L.A heat, everything now smelt of lilies and the chill of death.

Lucifer looked up at the sound of wings beating, and saw Azrael towering over him. She stood in front of the stained glass window at the head of the church, with its glass smashed, and the images of their Father and all his saints cracked and broken. She was dressed in her robes from the silver city this time. The heavy, black material blended in with the darkness of the church, and all Lucifer could really make out was her bone and ivory covered bodice.

“You’ve given up on the whole Hedy Lamarr look, I see,” Lucifer tried to joke.

“Aye, for now,” she humoured him. “Amenadiel told me you were doing something stupid, and I needed something more practical for what I’m about to do.”

Lucifer looked over her shoulders, and saw the faint outline of black wings as she opened them.

“But… you fell?” he asked, confused, and Azrael gave him a small smile.

“I never said I fell. Only that I was trying to get to know humans better.”

She offered Lucifer her hand, but he didn’t trust himself to take it. He’d hold her hand too tight and be unable to let go. So he ignored her and stared unseeingly up at his sister instead.

“You need to get up,” she told him firmly, dropping her hand back to her side, and looked to Maze lying nearby. “You’re losing her.”

Azrael had never been a fan of Maze’s, or any of the demons Lucifer had ever associated with. She’d had the same disdain for them as all of Lucifer’s other siblings, but to hear her - _death herself_ \- warning him that Maze was slipping away, he knew things must have been as bad as they looked.

Lucifer could feel Azrael’s dark eyes on him as he crawled back towards his demon. His knees screamed in pain, and he must have cut his palm when he tackled Asmodeus. His hand smudged red along the floor, slowing him down even further, but he had to get to her. He scooped her up carefully into his lap, and flexed out his wings. They hurt almost as much as everything else, but at least they hadn’t been out during the fight. He could still fly.

Looking behind him, he heard Asmodeus hiss as he lifted himself from the floor with a sickening crunch of bones and shifting rubble, and Azrael finally stopped watching Lucifer. She turned her back on him to face Asmodeus instead, and slid a long, ornate dagger from the folds of her robe.

It was time to go.

Holding Maze close to his chest, Lucifer flapped his wings and whisked her out through the broken window. The cold night air felt warm compared to the chill in the church, but Maze still shivered. Even if she was otherwise unresponsive, Lucifer felt a small sense of relief that the demon was able to feel anything at all.

Over the sound of his beating wings, Lucifer could hear the trumpets of the Silver City heralding, taunting him. He ground his teeth against the pain, and pushed his wings to move faster.

He still tried to keep the flight back to Lux a quick one. He flapped his wings as hard as he could, even when they began to ache and protest at the effort, until he tumbled over the penthouse railings and nearly fell forward; taking Maze with him.

The commotion brought Chloe to him quickly, and Pruflas hurried behind her. He was almost glad that Trixie hadn’t joined them, until he took Maze inside and saw the little girl staring at them with wide eyes.

“What happened?” the Detective asked close behind him, but Lucifer couldn’t speak. It wasn’t that he wanted to ignore Chloe, or didn’t want to reassure her or the child, but there was a lump in his throat and he knew his voice would crack if he tried.

He lay Maze across his bed, faintly aware that Chloe was hushing her daughter, and propped the demon’s head up on his pillows. She still didn’t respond. She barely moved at all, not even to breath.

“Mazikeen?” Lucifer tried, but it was futile. His mind whirled, and yet he struggled to think of anything at all.

What did he do? How had he let this happen? He’d been so overconfident in Maze’s abilities as a fighter, that he’d let her dive between himself and Asmodeus’ demon blade without a second thought.

It was his fault.

Lucifer’s hands left Maze’s face and hair, and brushed down over her body. He could see the beginnings of bruises along her arms and one shoulder, and she was covered in dozens of tiny cuts, but it wasn’t until he got to her stomach that Lucifer’s breath caught. It was impossible to see the dark stain on her black top, but he felt the stickiness of blood under his fingers, and they started to tremble.

The world fell away completely when he lifted Maze’s top, just enough to see the deep gash where she’d been stuck with a blade.

“Mazikeen,” Lucifer said again hopelessly, and pressed his hand against the wound. “Look at me,” he whispered, voice breaking, but she didn’t move. “Maze, please.”

“Lucifer?”

“Trixie, don’t.”

Reality hit him like a weight in his gut, and Lucifer tilted his head to see Trixie standing beside the bed. Her eyes were so teary, he was surprised she could see a thing, and her little lip trembled, but he could tell she was trying to be brave. Behind her, Chloe rested a hand on her shoulder and tried to guide her away. Trixie shook her head.

“Here,” the little girl said, taking his hand and shoving something light and prickly into it. “I kept it safe.”

He only just had enough presence of mind to think to look down at what the child had handed to him, and saw the tiny, ruffled white feather in his bloody palm. He’d forgotten all about the little feather that the child had stolen from him. He wasn’t even sure if a feather - something pure and divine, as Amenadiel would say - would work on a demon, but Lucifer felt a small flicker of hope spark in his chest. He smiled at Trixie, and the girl tried to smile back. It didn’t quite work, but he appreciated the effort.

"Very quick thinking, child," Lucifer praised her quietly, and Trixie gave a single nod before letting her mother pull her away. Chloe’s own eyes were bright with grief and worry and _questions_. He had a lot more he needed to tell her after that morning.

“What can I do?” she asked, coming to stand in the doorway after leaving the child with Pruflas.

“Nothing,” he told her honestly, gently. “Keep Beatrice away? When this is done, I have a prayer to make.”

The Detective watched him closely, and he wondered distantly if he looked a mess. He certainly felt it. She gave him a hesitant nod and a faint smile, and left him to do what he had to do.

Holding the feather by the quill, Lucifer turned back to Maze. She looked pale, almost grey, and he worried that he’d left it too long. Without wasting another second, he pressed the soft, white plume against her bloodied cut, and waited.


	7. An Eye for An Eye

Lucifer spent all of the morning alone. Maze was still lying in his bed, exactly as he'd left her. Her body had taken such a beating that, even with the intervention of his feather, he guessed it would be a few more hours before she woke up.

The Detective and her daughter were still in the penthouse, too. They'd both fallen soundly asleep, curled up together on his sofa. After such a restless night of waiting and worrying, Lucifer let them sleep and told Pruflas to fetch them a blanket. He saw the drawings Trixie had done, while she’d waited for him and Maze to return. One of them, the one on the top of the little pile of doodles, was of the four of them. A crudely drawn Detective hugged her daughter, and himself and Maze stood either side of them. All of them had wide, exaggerated smiles.

Lucifer pocketed the picture and went outside.

It was better that he didn't disturb them, he told himself. He couldn't have any of them knowing what he had planned.

He watched them from out on the balcony for a while, after he’d prayed. It was a last resort, but he was swiftly running out of options, and at least this way he wouldn’t have to get Chloe or Maze involved. Waiting had never been one of Lucifer’s strengths, and the few hours he waited for the signal felt more like a day, but at least he knew that what he was waiting for would keep his family safe.

Then it happened.

A gust of wind pushed against his back, like a pulse of energy that almost knocked him into the penthouse’s glass doors. Lucifer righted himself, fixed his cuffs, and looked out towards the city. It was early afternoon now, but dark clouds stopped the sun from shining any brighter than a dim, grey glow in the sky. Some buildings still had lights on, and the roads below were lit up.

“Sir?” Pruflas hesitated in the doorway, and when Lucifer turned to see him, he saw the demon had slipped back into his own, feline-form.

“Did you feel that?” Lucifer asked with a smile, and his butler nodded.

“Was it the gates?”

“Most likely,” he said with a small amount of satisfaction.

The demon stepped outside, and Lucifer could feel the cat’s eyes on him as he lifted himself up onto the glass railing.

“I need you to do something for me, Pruflas.”

“Anything, sir.”

Lucifer looked at him over his shoulder, at the ever-loyal butler, and nodded.

“All four of you need to stay here,” Lucifer ordered. “Don’t let anyone leave.”

“Not even Mazikeen, sir?”

“Especially not Mazikeen.” Lucifer leaned forward, kept in place by his fingers hooked over the edge of the glass.

“Where are you going?” Pruflas asked.

“The only place I can stop all of this,” he said. “Back to the beginning”

_Lucifer let go._

 

* * *

 

It seemed that in the past few months, Lucifer had been using his wings more and more. He’d told himself, after he’d saved Chloe, that he would hold back on using them again, but then he’d used them to save Maze only hours before. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t. He knew he couldn’t let his pride get in the way of keeping those around him safe. It was quicker to fly there than to take the corvette, and the flight there really was quick.

Since he’d first arrived in L.A with Maze, Lucifer had been back to the beach many times. It was a great place to think, and on such a stormy, overcast afternoon, no humans would want to be there. It also had the advantage of a hidden gate to Hell.

Landing softly on the sand, Lucifer folded his wings away and looked around. The sea was already rough and choppy. Waves crashed against the shore, and a rumble of light flickered in the sky.

He was running out of time.

“Well, that’s the last time I invite you anywhere,” Lucifer called out. The length of the beach was completely deserted. The high winds and rolling waves had wiped away any signs of life left behind in the sand. No one had been there recently. “No? I’m disappointed.”

“I’m not,” a voice called behind him, and Lucifer turned to see Asmodeus standing only a short distance away.

Lucifer stared at him, stunned. Not because the demon had managed to sneak up on him, or because he somehow managed to look amused while the strong winds ruffled his hair and white suit, but because one of his eyes was _missing_.

“You’ve, um-- Lost something?” Lucifer pointed to his own eye, and Asmodeus frowned and tilted his head, before he caught on to Lucifer’s meaning.

“Oh, that!” the demon said, unaffected, and waved his hand. “I caught it on a sharp knife.”

Lucifer was too busy staring at the demon and trying to process what he’d just been told to speak as Asmodeus stepped even closer. Soon they were face-to-face, and he narrowed his eyes - well, his eye - as he looked Lucifer over.

“It really was you,” he said. Even that took Lucifer a second to understand, as he tried not to look into the dark hole that had once held Asmodeus’ other eye.

“Who else?” he asked with false confidence.

“A mysterious note left at the church, after I killed Mazikeen and your sister?” Asmodeus tutted. “Can’t blame me for being suspicious.”

If the demon’s drastic change in appearance had been shocking to Lucifer, the mention of his sister’s death felt like a punch in the gut. He swallowed, and hoped that his smile hadn’t faltered. Asmodeus was watching him closely.

“Azrael?” Lucifer asked unsteadily.

“Oh, you should have heard her. Your sister.” Asmodeus said as if remembering something pleasant, and cleared his throat. “‘ _Och. The pain. I’m dying_ \--!’” He gave a strangled, gurgling noise that made Lucifer clench his teeth. “Such a shame, really,” Asmodeus sighed heavily. “She was a good fighter. Like your Mazikeen.”

“She fought well enough to take your eye,” Lucifer assumed. Maze was safe, but only because he’d been able to take her away and heal her in time. He could only hope that Asmodeus’ taunts were just that, and that Azrael was still alive. It was hard to believe that the angel of death could be beaten by anyone; especially this demon.

“Yes. That was unfortunate,” Asmodeus agreed. “Not to worry. What was it they used to say?” The demon smiled and lifted his hand, showing Lucifer a flash of silver. “An eye for an eye?”

Asmodeus’ body tensed, and Lucifer only had a moment to jump back before the demon lunged at him with a snarl. They both fell backwards into the sand, and he used the force of the fall to dig his knee into Asmodeus’ stomach, flipping the demon over his head.

Lucifer rolled onto his side and pushed himself onto his knees. Asmodeus did the same, and spat out sand in a breathless laugh. The brief distraction gave him just enough time to pull his own demon blade from the aether; one of a pair gifted to him by Maze in Hell.

The white metal glowed bright in his hand and immediately caught Asmodeus’ attention. For just a moment, the demon’s smile dropped, before it returned even wider than before.

“Lost your other blade, Morningstar?”

Lucifer thought back to the visitor he’d had on the balcony, whilst the Detective and Trixie had slept nearby, and smiled back.

“I gave it away,” he said easily, and didn’t wait to see the demon’s reaction. He pounced at Asmodeus, in a move that he was sure Maze would be proud of, and wrestled him onto his back.

The demon, caught off-guard, barely resisted until Lucifer pinned him down. And then he changed. His pale skin turned to black scales and his grin became a mouthful of needle-like teeth. Even in his demon form Asmodeus was missing one of his yellow eyes. The black hole was nowhere near as obvious against the black of his scales as it was in his human form, but Azrael’s attack had still managed to make the demon look even more of a nightmare than he had before.

Lucifer soon found himself rolled over onto his own back, straight into the waves rolling up the beach. Salt water filled his mouth, and it didn’t matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t push the demon away long enough for him to gulp in a breath. There was only one thing he could do to buy himself some time. He pulled on the clawed hand that curved around his throat, and blindly thrust his blade upwards.

The weight left his chest, and Lucifer jumped up, coughing and gasping for air. His eyes stung from the sea, the same water that left a horrible, salty taste in his mouth.

He pushed himself onto unsteady knees, then to his feet, and looked down at himself. His suit was ruined. It was drenched in sea water and clinging uncomfortably to his shoulders and legs. Asmodeus had fallen back, and it gave Lucifer just enough time to peel off his water-heavy blazer.

The demon watched him closely, while he cradled his arm to his chest. The blade had cut right through the tough hyde of Asmodeus’ forearm, and though he could see the shine of blood, Lucifer knew it wasn’t enough to kill him.

“Having second thoughts?” Asmodeus smiled when Lucifer only stared at him. “Don’t be afraid.”

He was going to put up more of a fight than Lucifer had thought. At the very least, he was hoping Asmodeus’ fight with Azrael would have left him weaker. But other than a missing eye and a freshly cut arm, the demon seemed just as tenacious and confident as he had been in the church.

“I’m trying to decide if choosing to fight out in the open was brave or foolish,” Asmodeus continued, as if they were having an amiable chat. “Unless you _want_ humans to get hurt, of course. In which case, I think it’s admirable.”

“No one’s going to get hurt,” Lucifer warned flatly.

“Only me?”

“You are the exception.”

“I’m flattered.”

They came to a standoff. Neither of them moved as they closely watched one another for the first signs of attack. The wind picked up, and Lucifer shivered when the cold air licked against the back of his wet shirt.

Asmodeus dived forward.

Lucifer had only a second to unfurl his wings, and lifted himself up into the air, just as the demon fell into the spot where he’d been standing. Asmodeus reached up and grabbed his ankle, pulling him off balance, and Lucifer came crashing back down into the sand with a worrying crack. A burning pain shot through his right wing and ripped an agonised cry from his chest.

Somewhere to his side, the demon laughed, and Lucifer had to blink back the white-hot pain that clouded his vision. To his left, he saw the shadow of Asmodeus slinking towards him, and bit back another cry as he pushed himself up.

His wing was undoubtedly broken, but he couldn’t let that slow him down. With determination, fuelled by a slowly building rage at himself for letting the demon get the better of him, Lucifer forced himself to his feet. The wing dragged in the sand behind him, and Asmodeus smiled.

“What do you aim to get out of this?” the demon asked. “You don’t want Hell. And you can’t stop the Horsemen. Why fight me?”

“I’m not-- I’m not trying to stop them,” Lucifer hissed through the pain. “I’m trying to distract you.”

Asmodeus’ smile fell. “What?”

With a final growl, Lucifer rushed forward, lifted his glowing blade, and dug it into the demon’s chest. Asmodeus stared at him in disbelief, and his dark scales flickered back into the pale, drained skin of a man. He staggered backwards as Lucifer ripped the knife back out, and a stain of bright red bloomed across the demon’s white suit.

“Oh dear,” Asmodeus whispered, just as the ground began to shake. Behind him, lightning struck the surface of the sea, and a whirlpool swirled in the waters. “You opened the gate?”

“Not me.” Lucifer smiled.

Wind whipped around them, threatening to lift them both off their feet, and Lucifer had to fight against it to stay standing. Asmodeus, already close to dying, didn’t have the strength to fight it. The winds ripped him up from the sand and pulled the demon backwards into the whirlpool. Lucifer would have joined him, had he not felt hands on his upper arm pulling him back.

His saviour dragged him to the edge of the beach, and guided his hands to grab onto the metal railings that separated sand from path.

“Go,” Lucifer rasped out, fighting off the worried hands that gripped onto him. He looked up, squinting against the sand that the churning winds kicked up around them, and saw his sister’s concerned eyes staring back at him. Her golden robes and long, black curls were being blown around wildly, but Amitiel herself stood unmoving against wind. It wasn’t trying to drag _her_ back into Hell.

“Go back to the Silver City.”

“I can take you to your club first,” Ami insisted, in her lilting Jamaican accent. “You’ll be safe there, brother.”

“There’s no time.” Lucifer shrugged off her hands when she reached for him again. “You have to tell them Asmodeus is gone. _Stop them_.”

He’d known, when he’d prayed Amitiel to his balcony that morning and given her his other blade, that she’d try to save him from Hell. Lucifer had prepared himself for having to turn his sister away. She was always so determined to save everyone. Even those that couldn’t be saved.

“ _Go_ ,” he repeated, and with a resigned but hurt nod, Amitiel unfolded her wings and flew up into the blackened sky.

Lucifer sighed in relief, but it was short lived. The winds grew stronger still, and he didn’t need to look up to know who was approaching the beach.

“I told Pruflas not to let you come,” Lucifer sighed tiredly, and looked up expecting to see Maze. “Detective?”

“What’s going on?” She marched toward him with such a look of determination, that Lucifer was certain he was in trouble. But as she came closer, and saw him gripping onto the railing, she started to look sick with worry. She put her hands over his and held them tight. “Is this… it?”

“No,” Lucifer told her firmly. “No. It should be over soon, Detective. You just need to let go.”

“What?” Her eyes were wide and searching, and Lucifer wished she hadn’t come. She made what he was about to do even harder. He wouldn’t even be able to reprimand Pruflas for letting the Detective know he’d gone to the beach. _Back to the beginning._

“Let me go,” he told her unsteadily. The gusts of wind lifted his broken wing off the ground, and sent a fresh jolt of pain through his body. He hissed, and the Detective’s hands held his tighter. “I’ll drag you in if you don’t.”

“Lucifer, I can’t just--”

“You have to!” he snapped, and immediately regretted it. He met her bright, pleading eyes with his own, and smiled tremulously. “Chloe,” Lucifer said gently, trying to slip his hands free. “Look after Maze.”

"Lucifer, _no_!"

He let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left! Thank you to everyone who's left comments and kudos so far. I've really appreciated the support.  
> For anyone interested; my friend coilingearth did some brilliant sketches of [Pruflas and Azrael](https://coilingearth.tumblr.com/post/181468832173/mareyshelley-i-had-an-8-hour-plane-ride-to-write) and this amazing picture of [Amitiel](http://mareyshelley.tumblr.com/post/172268892840/coilingart-amitiel-angel-of-truth-original).


	8. The Resurrection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is; the final chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who commented and left kudos along the way. I've really appreciated all the positive feedback.

_Chloe_

2 Weeks Later.

The door slammed behind Maze and Trixie, and she was left alone. Chloe wiped at her eyes with her sleeves and stared down at the drawing Trixie had done of her family.

 _Her family_ , Chloe thought again as she picked it up. At one time, that would have been a fond thought that made her smile. Now it only made her heart break. There was one person, coloured in all red, that wasn’t with them anymore. Trixie had done a lot of pictures of Lucifer like that. Some had wings, but her most recent ones left them out. Chloe couldn’t understand why Trixie chose to colour him red, and she hadn’t liked to ask.

Somewhere to her side, her phone buzzed. Chloe didn't need to look to know that it was either Dan or Ella. The two of them had been trying to contact her ever since she took time off work. It was only a day after Lucifer left that Dan had called to tell her he was feeling better. Chloe had barely said more than two words throughout the whole call, and now he thought it was because Lucifer had ran away again. She didn't know how to tell him the truth. Ella knew the truth, but Chloe still didn't know how to tell her _where_ Lucifer had gone. Even for the ever-optimistic Ella, telling her their friend was in Hell would have been too much.

Turning her phone face down, without looking at the screen, Chloe set Trixie’s picture back down and stood up. She’d barely left the house since returning from the beach. She hadn’t been able to speak to anyone, apart from Trixie and Maze. Lucifer had told her to look after Maze, and that was another thing Chloe didn’t know how to do.

How did one look after a demon?

She _seemed_ to be taking Lucifer’s absence in her stride, but Chloe suspected that was just Maze putting on a brave face.

With a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from the sofa, intending to get herself a drink, and froze. She heard a faint scratching coming from outside, but as soon as she stopped to listen, the noise stopped, too.

It must have been her imagination again, Chloe reasoned with herself. She’d been hearing bumps and knocks all week, and assuming - no, _hoping_ \- that they were Lucifer breaking into her house again. But more often than not, it was just the wind.

The resounding _thump_ that followed the silence, however, could not have been the wind.

Heart in her throat, Chloe grabbed at her hip for her gun, and cursed when she remembered it wasn’t there. She’d left it in her room, in a drawer where it was no use to anyone. She looked around her quickly and, despite the number of times she’d told Maze to put her toys away, was relieved to find a curved knife left on the kitchen counter. It was better than nothing.

Tiptoeing up the stairs, she listened out for every little sound; the clicking of what sounded like blinds, the thump of something blunt banging against glass, the mutter of an angry voice. She turned the blade in her hand, braced herself outside her bedroom door, and threw it open.

She dropped the knife almost immediately.

Great, white wings were tangled in her bedroom blinds, casting a shadow across the whole room, but Chloe could easily make out the figure of the man they belonged to. The once pristine suit was frayed and covered in a layer of grey dust. _No_ , a part of her brain corrected. _A layer of ash._ She would have been relieved, she wanted to cry tears of joy, until she saw the face staring back at her.

A scream caught in the back of her throat, and Chloe stepped back into the bedroom wall. The creature, that only a moment ago she’d thought was her partner, stared back at her with fire in its eyes. They were round, just as round as she was sure her own looked, but the more she stared at it, the more she realised it wasn’t an _it_ at all.

Past the burnt, red skin with its cuts and crevices, she recognised the curve of _his_ nose. _His_ lips. Even the eyes, Chloe noted, were the same shape.

“Lucifer?” she whispered, and as if to answer her, the red face shifted and faded back into that of her partner. A cool wave of relief hit her, and Chloe choked back a sob as she rushed to him. Her heart hammered fast, as if it wanted to break free of her chest, but she didn’t really feel scared. She had too many questions, and she was so relieved that she couldn’t bring herself to ask about the face or burning eyes. All of that could wait. He’d been away for too long.

“Are you hurt?” She reached out tentatively, and gave his shoulder a light squeeze. The redness had disappeared completely, but there was a pain and awe in his eyes as he stared back at her.

“I’m fine, detective.”

“You came back,” Chloe said quietly. He’d managed to untangle his wings, and he folded them away as quickly as he’d somehow hidden his face.

“Did you doubt I would?” he asked her, just as quietly, but there was something else there. There was a reservation as if, if he had the room, he wanted to move away from her. It made Chloe worry that maybe he wasn’t really back at all. Maybe he’d only come back to tell her he was doing fine, or to pick up some of his things before returning back to… _there_.

“No,” she finally answered, and then corrected herself, “Maybe a little. Trixie’s the one with the unyielding faith.”

Lucifer grimaced at the word, but it was half-heartened, and she caught the shine of tears in his eyes. So he did care, she realised. He was just trying to hide it. He was probably worried about her reaction to his face, the one Trixie had kept drawing, but she couldn’t bring herself to care when he’d finally come back to her. He didn’t just care about her, he was scared of her reaction, and Chloe smiled at him.

She felt guilty for celebrating that he had those feelings, but she was glad he felt something. Being the Devil - an archangel? - didn’t mean he didn’t feel things as keenly as her. Sometimes, Chloe wondered if Lucifer felt things even more than most humans.

“Come downstairs,” she said, and reached for his hand to guide him out after her. He was still covered in ash, but that was another thing Chloe couldn’t bring herself to care about in that moment.

Leading him downstairs into the kitchen, she silently gestured for him to sit down.

"So that crazy storm stopped," Chloe told him, trying to make conversation when Lucifer only stayed quiet. "Almost as soon as you... As soon as you'd gone. Everything cleared up. Winds stopped."

She pulled two coffee mugs out of the cupboard, and while her recap hadn’t been enough to make him talk, her choice of drink was.

"I need something a little stronger after my resurrection," he said. “If you don’t mind, detective.”

Chloe sighed, but she wasn’t surprised. She nodded again for him to sit, and looked for the drinks Maze kept hidden at the back of the cupboards.

Finding a half-empty bottle of whiskey, Chloe searched for glasses and set them out in front of Lucifer. He gave her a nod and a smile of thanks, but didn't entirely seem himself. He was still unsure about her reaction, she realised, and he kept staring at her as if he couldn't quite believe she was there.

"Dan got better," she continued, feeling ridiculous for talking so much when Lucifer apparently had nothing to say to her. "Everyone wondered where you'd gone."

She poured them both a drink, and she'd barely had a moment to put the cap back on the bottle before Lucifer had downed his glass. He held it back out to her and she silently poured him another.

“It took a few months for my wing to heal,” Lucifer told her, with enough vehemence to tell her he didn’t particularly like his wings, and somehow blamed them for him being away for so long.

“Months?” Chloe repeated, frowning. “Lucifer, you’ve only been gone two weeks.”

There was that look in his eyes again, behind the glint of building tears that he was trying so hard to hold back. Chloe’s stomach knotted with worry.

“Time works differently in Hell,” he made himself say, and her hand gripped her own glass.

“So, to you, you were gone longer?” Chloe guessed, and Lucifer nodded. “How long were you gone?”

“It’s hard to say.” He stared down at his glass, unseeing. She could tell he was stalling, but Chloe stood quietly by his side and let him have as much time as he needed. “I needed my wings to get back, but then there was a rebellion.” He absently swirled the amber drink in his glass, and glanced up at her. “Asmodeus died, he left behind an awful mess, and then I came back.”

Chloe nodded, and tried to smile reassuringly at him, but he hadn’t answered her question.

“How long, Lucifer?”

He finished his second drink, and stared down at the empty glass as he answered.

“Nearly two years.”

 

* * *

 

_Lucifer_

“Two years,” Chloe repeated slowly. There’d been so much he hadn’t told her, the subject of Hell and its varied time had never come up, and he wished he’d told her more now.

Both of them were silent. Lucifer had no idea what to say, and he suspected the Detective didn’t, either. Her eyes were red and blotchy. She’d obviously been crying long before he unceremoniously crashed into her bedroom window.

“And two weeks here,” Lucifer muttered. His voice snapped Chloe out of whatever it was she was thinking about, and she nodded numbly. “I never intended to be gone for so long.”

“Two weeks or two years?”

“Both.”

“You haven’t seen us in two years.”

“Yes.”

“And you still came back.”

“Well, where--” Chloe’s lip trembled, cutting him off. “Of course I did.”

She was trying to pretend she was fine, that much was clear, but he couldn’t work out what had made her cry in the first place. It couldn’t have been his devil face, but that was probably contributing to her unease.

Flying from Hell was the first, long flight he’d had to do since breaking his wing, and Lucifer had hoped to make a smoother entrance back into the Detective and Maze’s lives. If he was welcome. He hadn’t expected to find her crying, and he’d never intended for her to see his devil face or his wings.

“Chloe, I--”

"So you're... in charge again?" she cut him off.

"For now." Lucifer nodded. There was no point in trying to conceal the truth from her, but he tried to answer with a smile. "Until the next ambitious demon realises I intend to stay here."

Chloe didn’t smile back. She just gripped her glass and took another sip of whiskey.

"I'm glad you're back."

Lucifer smiled tentatively. "As am I."

Chloe pressed her lips together, but it did nothing to hide the odd mixture of her relieved smile and the need to cry. Her eyes were glassy, and it took a considerable amount of effort for Lucifer to look at her without crying himself.

Setting his glass aside, he stood up, intending to pull her into a hug, when the front door slammed open. Both of them jumped at the intrusion, and the moment between them was broken. Chloe swiped at her eyes with her hands and Lucifer straightened his cuffs.

“Kid forgot her bag,” a familiar voice said as he turned to look at whoever had interrupted them.

“Lucifer!” another, higher-pitched voice shouted, and within seconds two small arms wrapped tight around his waist, uncaring of the ash dusted over his suit. He stilled, until Trixie looked up at him and gave him quite possibly one of the brightest grins he’d ever seen.

“Yes, hello,” he said, patting her on the head. The child chuckled and let go of him, and he wondered if anyone would notice how disappointed he was to lose that contact. Hell wasn’t really a place to be if you wanted hugs. It was more a place of discomfort and fighting, and that was the first embrace he’d felt in two years.

“You’re back.”

Maze stepped up beside Trixie, her arms crossed, and Lucifer straightened up. He wiped away the ridiculous smile the child had no doubt left on his face, and gave his demon a tight nod.

“Did you think I’d stay there?” he asked. “All that ash plays hell with my suits.”

They stared at one another, and he wasn’t sure who moved first, but he soon found himself with his arms wrapped tightly around Maze, and hers around him. It only lasted for a second or so, and he still needed time to acclimatise to the way time changed on earth, but Maze’s hug was still a comfort. Even when she pulled back and roughly hit him on the arm.

She straightened her back and pulled back her shoulders. "So everything's taken care of?" she asked, with only a slight smile to suggest she was glad of his return.

"Yes." Lucifer glanced at Trixie and Chloe stood behind her. "The natural order's been restored and Azrael did what she does best."

"So no more escaped demons?"

Chloe cleared her throat and shook her head, down to her daughter who was watching the both of them with a knowing smile. He'd almost forgotten he had to be careful what he said around the child. When Chloe was around, anyway.

"No," he said to all of them. "Everything should be back to normal."

"As normal as they can be," Chloe corrected with a little smile, and Lucifer returned it tenfold.

"Well, we wouldn't want to be too normal, detective. Where's the fun in that?"

Maze scoffed and left the three of them in the kitchen, standing around the island, to collect Trixie's bag from her room. She slung it over her shoulder as she came back in and gestured to the front door with a jerk of her head.

"We were gonna get ice cream," she said to him. "Wanna come with us, or is that too normal for you?”

"The four of us?" Lucifer asked. Chloe gave him an encouraging little nod, and Trixie grinned happily at the idea, and he was nodding in agreement before he could even consider turning them down. No doubt the ice cream parlour would be sticky and loud and full of small humans, but if he'd be there with the three of them...

"Why not?" he said, with a bright smile of his own. “I’ll just need to make a quick stop at Lux. I’d like a suit that doesn’t smell of brimstone if we’re going out.”

"How will you get there?" Trixie asked, with a smile that was so innocent it was suspicious.

“The old-fashioned way,” he said.

“Are you gonna fly?”

_Clever child._

“Can I go with you?” she added.

_Too clever._

Lucifer looked between Chloe - who was wringing her hands together and still unsure about the whole thing - and Maze, who just looked eternally amused.

“Well,” Lucifer began, and cleared his throat, “that all depends on what you can give me in return, child.”

Trixie’s face somehow lit up even brighter than before. “A deal?”

“Naturally,” he answered with a slightly bow of his head.

The child glanced around the room, in search of something she could give him as payment for flying her over the city. He was sure she wouldn’t find anything, there wasn’t much in the Detective’s apartment that Lucifer really wanted, but then Trixie rushed over to the coffee table and snatched up a sheet of paper.

Bemused, Lucifer watched as she bounded back over to him and slapped the page down into his hand.

“Here,” she said proudly. “I drew this for you. You can have it,” she said slowly, with an impish grin because they both knew what she was going to suggest, “if you take me flying.”

Lucifer looked between her and her drawing, and noted the lack of wings on the crudely drawn stick figure of himself. He smiled, and Trixie obviously took his pleased chuckle to mean he would accept her payment, but that would be too easy.

“But I already have a drawing of yours, Beatrice,” he said, and handed the picture back.

Trixie looked crestfallen, her shoulders slumped, when she took the drawing back, and then she screwed up her face and met his eyes curiously.

“You do?” she asked, and Lucifer nodded. “Which one?”

Hesitantly, he reached into what had once been one of his favourite suits, with its frayed edges and ripped hip pockets, and pulled out an even tattier piece of paper. The edges were bent and ripped, and the paper had softened and creased over its two years folded up in his pocket. He unfolded it now, like he had dozens of times before when he wanted to be reminded of his family on earth, and looked at the child’s drawing. They were all in it, and Trixie gasped when she saw which picture it was. She didn’t seem to care that the paper was so worn it was almost falling apart.

“That’s where it went!” she said excitedly.

Lucifer looked up to Chloe, who had tears shining in her eyes, and they shared a smile as Trixie carried on talking. He wasn’t listening to what she was talking about; something about why he had it or why it was ripped. Maze, standing beside Chloe, folded her arms and looked strangely… touched. He’d never seen her so moved by one of Beatrice’s drawings before.

“Can I still go flying?”

“But I have no need of another drawing,” Lucifer teased, and Trixie gave him a look that was entirely too much like her mother’s unamused _Lucifer-be-serious_ look.

“You took that one without asking,” she reasoned. “You owe me.”

Oh, she really was clever. He’d missed her quick wit, and the proud smiles it always brought to both Maze and the Detective’s faces.

“Very well,” he conceded, as if he wasn’t thoroughly impressed. “You can have _one_ flight.”

Trixie gave a whoop of victory and ran outside, leaving the three of them in a sudden, but comfortable silence. Maze, recovered from her sudden bout of feelings, stepped forward and nudged his arm with her shoulder.

“I’ll see you there,” she said. “Try not to get lost on the way.”

“I know my way around L.A, Mazikeen,” he said after her, but the only response he got was a smirk before she shut the front door behind her. Then he was left alone with Chloe.

She stepped forward, her tears wiped away onto her sleeve, and gave him a shaky smile.

“I really am glad you’re back.”

“I was always going to come back, detective.”

Chloe searched his face, and when she found whatever she was looking for, probably his sincerity, she smiled wider and nodded.

“Yeah,” she whispered, and stood up on the tips of her toes to place a kiss to his cheek. Lucifer leaned into her, closing his eyes, and savoured the feeling of her lips on him. It was like the hugs from Maze and Trixie. It had been so long since anyone had touched him in such a tender way, that he still couldn’t quite believe it was real, or that he was welcomed back after so long. Even if it had only been two weeks to them.

“Come on,” Chloe said, pulling away and taking his hand in hers. “Trixie’s waiting.”

They walked outside, down to where Maze was waiting for them in her car, with Trixie standing by the door. She was chatting away happily, excitedly, but the moment she saw him walking over with her mother, Trixie ran to him. She moved so fast he feared she might trip over her own feet, and he steadied her with his hand on her shoulder.

“Are you ready?” he asked, effortlessly lifting the child into his arms. She kicked her legs and pumped her fists in the air.

“Ready!”

“Hold on tight,” Lucifer reminded, and unfolded his wings for one last flight.

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me @[mareyshelley](http://mareyshelley.tumblr.com) on tumblr]


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